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Estella quickly calculated how many seconds she had before the tributes from District 8 would reach Rue—at most, a minute. Letting out a frustrated sigh, she muttered under her breath. Working under pressure had never been her strength.
Wasting no time, she retrieved a rope from her bag, estimating the length and height between her and Rue. With a flick, she pulled her sunglasses up over her head, tying a noose knot at one end of the rope before tossing it to the confused girl across from her.
Rue stared in bewilderment, but Estella silently signaled for her to hold on tight. She let her bag dangle freely on the branch and gripped her dagger between her teeth, preparing for what came next.
Without hesitation, Estella gave Rue a count of three before dropping to the ground with swift precision. Her weight, heavier than Rue's petite frame, lifted the girl high into the branches where Estella had just been, essentially swapping places. Rue clung tightly to her end of the rope, now nestled safely above, hidden within the canopy.
On the forest floor below, Estella moved lightly, each step measured against the twigs that littered the ground, her senses on high alert as she monitored the approaching District 8 tributes. Rue, though fearful, remained as still and silent as possible, watching everything from her elevated perch with anxious eyes.
One... two... three... Now.
As the female tribute from District 8 approached, Estella struck without pause. She lunged, stabbing the girl in the shoulder joint with her dagger while immediately covering her mouth to muffle any scream. The girl's weapon clattered to the ground, and though she grunted in pain, the muffled sound was enough to alert her partner.
Cursing under her breath, Estella yanked the injured tribute toward a tree, dragging her in a circle until Estella's back hit the trunk. She pinned the girl in place, pressing the dagger closer to her throat with a cold glare that made the message clear: make a sound, and it's over.
Estella's eyes caught a flicker of movement—the boy from District 8 had noticed the rope dangling from the branch. His gaze shot upwards, locking onto Rue's terrified face. He raised his bow, drawing back the string with practiced ease, ready to shoot.
In a split second, Estella slammed her knee into the girl's stomach, forcing a pained gasp from her lips as she crumpled, dropping her second blade. Estella swiftly grabbed the sword and, with precise aim, hurled it at the boy's leg just as he released the arrow. His scream echoed through the forest as the sword struck, embedding deep into the muscle of his thigh, causing him to collapse in agony.
Estella approached without a word, lifting the boy's bow and arrow. Their eyes met—his, wide and brimming with fear; hers, unreadable and steady. She drew the string back slowly, the arrow's tip aimed between his eyes. Rue turned away, unable to witness what she thought was about to unfold. The boy did the same, bracing for death.
SWISH!
But when they opened their eyes, there was no arrow lodged in him. Instead, Estella's aim had shifted at the last second—toward the girl from District 8, who had risen behind her with a pocketknife raised high. The arrow was now buried in her uninjured shoulder, stopping her in her tracks mid-motion. She let out a shaky breath and dropped to her knees, fingers trembling at the arrow embedded in her flesh, unsure whether to pull it out.
"...Leave it. Unless you have medicine or something to cover the wound, don't pull it yet," Estella advised coldly, shocking both of them. That was the last thing they expected—her giving them survival advice.
She slung the bow over her shoulder, collecting the remaining four arrows. "I'm taking this. Thanks," she added with a sarcastic tone before scaling the tree with effortless ease, returning to Rue. When she reached her, Estella flashed a quick, sincere smile—small but genuine.
She coiled the rope back into her pack, casting one last glance at the wounded District 8 tributes below. Turning to Rue, she motioned for her to follow. "We need to leave. Too much noise," she warned, taking the lead through the treetops, leaping from branch to branch with practiced confidence.
She paused now and then to help Rue when the gaps were too wide, her movements protective and precise, like a mother bird shielding her chick from danger.
With the newly acquired bow and arrows, Estella could finally hunt for food and defend them both. Rue was deeply grateful and did her best to follow instructions, hiding when told and staying out of the way. She was constantly in awe of Estella's stealth and deadly precision, especially the way she could track animals and tributes alike.
Rue promised herself she would leave Estella's side only when she found her partner Thresh. Estella didn't object to the girl's company, though she also didn't seem particularly affected by the thought of Rue eventually leaving.
She simply accepted it.
Nightfall arrived faster than expected, the darkness creeping in as the forest cooled. Estella concluded they had reached the outer edge of the arena—it was safe enough to camp on the ground. While Rue started a fire, Estella ventured off to gather water from nearby trees, her mind constantly calculating their safety and resources. They feasted on rabbit meat that night, cooked and shared in silence.
Afterward, Rue curled up in the sleeping bag Estella had acquired earlier, while the older girl sat beside the dying embers, gazing up at the artificial stars glittering overhead.
Her thoughts drifted to Poppy's words—the cold explanation of what happens when a tribute dies. A hovercraft would descend from the sky, tentacle-like arms reaching down to scoop up the bodies, carrying them away like trash being cleaned off a stage.
Estella's gaze flicked to Rue, who was struggling to fall asleep, and she wondered what would've become of the girl if she hadn't intervened. She shifted her posture, leaning back as the chittering of night creatures surrounded her, soft and ominous.
In the sky, the Capitol projected the faces of the fallen. Estella studied each one carefully, memorizing names and counting who was left.
Bravura, the boy from District 9, and others appeared.
But no Peeta, no Katniss, no Thresh... and no Aries.
Estella sighed, quietly relieved. As the final image faded, the Capitol seal took its place, and the national anthem began to swell in the air. Estella sneered at the spectacle, flipping off the sky without hesitation. She knew the cameras were always watching, but what did it matter? She was going to die anyway—might as well give them something honest.
"Estella... are you asleep?" Rue's small voice broke the silence. Estella turned slightly toward her. The dark made it hard to see Rue's face, but her voice betrayed the discomfort she felt. "No," Estella replied, flat but not unkind.
"Are you... maybe cold? I-I mean, if we squeeze a little, I-I'm sure we'll b-both fit..."
