The Girl With the Bread

The Boy from District Three

Aang has decided to trust him wholeheartedly. He knows this because as soon as the anthem finishes he snuggles up against him and falls asleep. Nor does he have any misgivings about him, as he takes no particular precautions. If he had wanted Sokka dead, all he would've had to do was disappear from that tree without pointing out the tracker jacker nest.

At the back of his mind, he knows they both can't win these Games. But since the odds are still against either of them surviving, he manages to ignore the thought.

Besides, he's distracted by his latest idea about the Careers and their supplies. Somehow he and Aang must find a way to destroy their food. He's pretty sure feeding themselves will be a tremendous struggle. Traditionally, the Career tributes' strategy is to get hold of all the food early on and go from there. The years when they have not protected it well - one year a pack of hideous reptiles destroyed it, another a Gamemakers' flood washed it away - those are usually the years that tributes from other districts have won. That the Careers have been better fed growing up is actually to their disadvantage, because they don't know how to be hungry. Not the way he and Toph do.

Toph. The full impact of her name, of her, hits him hard. Where is she? Is she safe? Is she hurt? Is she dead? The last time he had seen her... he tries to conjure up an image, and the only thing that resurfaces to his brain is her big green eyes, wide with terror, her body leaning into his as she screamed at him to run. Maybe Aang was right. Maybe she did love him.

He shakes his head and tries to turn his thoughts back to the Careers, but he's too exhausted to begin any detailed plan tonight. His wounds recovering, his mind still a bit foggy from the venom, and the warmth of Aang at his side, his head cradled on Sokka's shoulder, have given him a sense of security. He realizes, for the first time, how lonely he's been in the arena. He gives in to his drowsiness, resolving that tomorrow the tables will turn. Tomorrow, it's the Careers who will have to watch their backs.

The boom of the cannon jolts him awake. The sky is streaked with light, the birds already chattering. Aang perches in a branch across from him, his hands cupping something. They wait, listening for more shots, but there aren't any.

"Who do you think that was?" he asks, and against his will he thinks of Toph. No.

"I don't know. It could have been any of the others," Aang says. "I guess we'll know tonight."

"Who's left again?"

"The boy from District One, um..." he taps his chin, thinking of the name.

"Jet," Sokka supplies.

"Yes, Jet. Both from Two. The boy from Three. Me and Yaling. And you and Toph," says Aang. "That's eight. Oh, wait, and the boy from Ten and Azula."

"Azula?" he asks, puzzled. He's never heard that name before.

"The girl from Five. You know, the one who looks so sly all the time?"

Slyface. Yes, Sokka knows her. "I see. Well, that last death should hold the crowd for a bit. Maybe we'll have time to do something before the Gamemakers decide things have been moving too slowly. What's in your hands?"

"Breakfast," says Aang. He holds them out to reveal two big eggs.

"What kind are those?"

"Not sure. There's a marshy area over that way. Some sort of water bird."

It would be nice to cook them, but neither of them wants to risk a fire. His guess is the tribute who died today as a victim of the Careers, which means they've recovered enough to be back in the Games. They each suck out the insides of an egg, eat a rabbit leg and some berries. It's a good breakfast anywhere.