The Great War.

XV

"When The Earth Moved."

"So you cut it here, grab the end, and pull really hard to remove the skin." Marvel had spent the last half hour trying to teach me how to skin rabbits, but it's not turning out as I imagined. "Come on, Clove! It's easy!"

My hands are covered in blood, and I still can't even manage the first step my ally instructed me to do. This is impossible. I grumble as I continue to try.

"I'm a lost cause!" I shout, leaving the animal back on the ground. I removed some of the fur, but I don't want to exert any more effort. "I can't do it."

He laughs as he finishes dismembering the rabbit in his hands, separating the edible parts from the unusable ones. District Three's boy has started digging around the platforms to extract the mines. Cato doesn't trust him, so he watches him closely, holding a torch and constantly threatening him. I hope that one of the mines activates by accident and kills them both, but to my dismay, it doesn't happen.

Marvel seems to have an interesting life in his district, unlike us, who lived in constant training. He tells me a couple of anecdotes as we light a small fire to cook the meat. He has friends and a brother, and he worked part-time at a factory near his house. I also discover that he is naturally sociable because once he feels comfortable around me, he doesn't shut up anymore.

"You can't even imagine," Marvel says. "The first time I made a fire, I ended up incinerating my eyebrows. I was the laughingstock of District 1 for months."

"What!?" I ask, bursting into laughter, imagining his face without eyebrows. It would truly look ridiculous. "At least you recovered some of it."

"Some?" he looks absolutely offended. "This is how they were before the accident."

When the rabbit is finally cooked, Marvel offers some of it to Cato as a peace offering, and I see my district partner accepting it. The alliance will stay together for a couple more days.
"You know what?" Marvel asks, crossing his arms and staring at me intently. "This sucks."

"Well, nobody has showered in days!"

"That's not what I meant," he says while laughing. "But you make a very, very valid point."

Reality hits hard, and all I can do is think that maybe in another life, we could have been great friends. Right now, one's survival guarantees the death of the other. I pretend that nothing is wrong, and the anthem resonates in the arena, saving me from that awkward situation. Today, no one has died, and that's a bad thing. It's only a matter of time before the Gamemakers take care of the situation once again.

We work better at night, so after a couple of hours, we manage to pile all our supplies into a large pyramid. We cover it with a net so that nothing falls off and accidentally triggers one of the explosives the District 3 boy has placed underground. The motion sensors are extremely sensitive, so we have to be very careful when approaching the supplies. Not all the mines could be reactivated, but we have obtained enough to surround the pyramid. No one can steal from us now.

The morning arrives, accompanied by the sound of a cannon blast. If Lover Boy is as injured as Cato says, then it's probably his cannon. However, there are a lot of tributes left, and deep down I hope that the cannon blast was announcing the death of the boy from District 11.

Cato has forced the District 3 boy to stand guard during the day. He handed him a spear, but I'm not sure if it was his best plan. The boy can barely hold the weapon, although it could all be an act on his part, waiting for the right moment to attack us. He positions himself near the supply pile and takes off his jacket. I notice wasp stings on his arm. I guess he never strayed far from the Cornucopia and perhaps had been stealing supplies while we weren't around. He had the misfortune of falling into one of our traps. We've relocated our camp by the lake; and now that Glimmer and Tara are dead, we have an extra tent, so at least I won't have to deal with my district partner sleeping next to me anymore.