𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐒 | hunger games ✓

chapter 13

━━･❪ 🌸 ❫ ･━━

Daphne was not ashamed to say that she slept until midday the next day, plagued by nightmares, having been woken up by a cannon shot. She wondered briefly what would happen if she just lay there and waited for everyone to slaughter each other. Just sleep out the Games and survive that way.

"If only it were that easy," Daphne rasped to nobody in particular as she dragged herself out of the house, her hand still numb from sleeping on it. She flinched at the croaking sound of her own voice, and speaking sent waves of pain through her throat. Mellie really did some damage to her vocal cords.

The cool ocean breeze that greeted her was so unlike the blistering heatwaves back home. It was unnerving.

Her stomach gave a meager grumble. She hadn't eaten anything since breakfast yesterday, and she'd exerted herself quite a bit after that. She needed food.

Her throat was still quite sore, and it continued to hurt when swallowing. Daphne choked down a couple handfuls of water from the canal before wandering towards no place in particular. She supposed that day she would explore the arena, try to scout for food.

There was considerable plant life in the suburban town, and Daphne set out to look for one that bore fruit. She eventually stumbled across a bush dotted with small dark berries. She racked her brain trying to recall the edible plants station from training, staring at the berries for a frustrating minute or two. She came up empty.

She did, however, recall a way to test whether or not the fruit was safe. She plucked a berry, then crushed it against the surface of her wrist. Almost immediately, an itching sensation spread across her skin, and Daphne hastily scraped the berry off of her and onto the ground.

She muttered a curse, gave the bush a hard kick for good measure, and stalked away.

She swept through a couple other houses in hopes of maybe an abandoned refrigerator, but she came to the conclusion that all the houses were empty like the one she'd crashed in. Not a single piece of furniture or decor that hinted anyone had ever lived there.

Her wrist stopped itching a couple hours later, when Daphne found herself at the border of the urban adobe towers and the beach town. It was about mid afternoon, since she'd slept half the day away. It was just her luck that she hadn't found a single other fruit plant.

Her hunger hadn't gotten better. During hard times in the winter back in District Ten, she'd sometimes have to go days without eating. She liked to think she could hold out pretty well, but she'd been eating good for the past week at the Capitol. Her stomach was now used to being constantly full.

As if in response, a hard cramp nipped at her abdomen. If she didn't find food soon, who knew how well she'd fare if someone were to attack her?

Daphne tried to assure herself that she hadn't run into any of the other thirty remaining tributes so far, and that she had time to scavenge. Just as a faint rustle sounded in the tree behind her.

Daphne whirled around, a knife instantly cocked her hand. If there was a tribute hiding in that tree, deciding this was the perfect time to strike, the irony would be hilarious.

The leaves rustled, and she tightened her grip on the knife. A dark streak shot down the trunk, and the knife was flying before she could even register what it was. The blade hit home with a splatter of blood, and the thing gave a squeak before falling limp to the ground.

Daphne suddenly felt quite stupid as she picked her victim up by the furry tail, frowning. It was a squirrel. She'd been spooked by a damn squirrel. And now she'd killed the poor thing.