"Me neither." It's the chill of space or the lush green dampness of a forest for Clarke. She's been to a coast exactly once, and the delight of seeing the ocean for the first time was undermined by a thick, suffocating fog and the hounds of destruction nipping at their heels. She's never seen snow, either, though the ash that fell through the sky and blanketed the ground near the end of the world had done it's best to imitate.

"I knew it'd be warm and arid, but I didn't expect it to be so hot it almost hurt to breathe. Or for the very air to shimmer."