𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐒𝐄𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝑭𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒌 𝑶𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒓

𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐄.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐒𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠.

Despite their combined skill, which was at most equal to, but almost completely outshone any other duo, Kit advised Rosie and Toby to not go into the Cornucopia and try to gather supplies. Instead, he advised them to just run, get space, figure out the lay of the land, and rethink once the group thinned. The strategic meeting didn't take long, there wasn't much planning you could do outside the Arena, most of it was on the ball, making choices at the moment-and making the right ones.

Once the meeting was over, Rosie forced food-that she soon vomited up into the toilet-down her throat, and had one more long shower before turning in for a sleepless night. She tossed and turned, but stayed in her bed, refusing to give up on her quest for sleep because she was going to need it.

The morning came far too quickly and yet felt like every second of that night stretched on for a lifetime.

Zavir had sat her down and braided her hair tightly for her, she called them her battle braids, a name Rosie rolled her eyes at but also smiled at. She was trying to be nice, it was just hard for Rosie to see Zavir as anything but a person who built up the people who destroyed people like her. Rosie had no contempt for her Escort, in fact, she wished Zavir well, as Rosie thought the woman was trying to do her best, she was just naïve to how Panem's true colours shone so darkly. No matter how much glitz and glamour The Capitol boasted, underneath the city was rotting. It was built on oppression and the willing torture of children; that kind of evil can never be polished pretty.

While Zavir accompanied Toby to the hovercraft which would transport them to the Arena, Kit was tasked with getting Rosie there. They walked in a thick silence, this Games was so different to any Kit had experienced; it'd been years since he made any effort toward his Tributes, but it was more different than that, he'd never had a set of Tributes who both stood even a slither of a chance.

"They'll put all kinds of stuff right in front," He continued the warning he'd been preaching since the last night, "Right in the mouth of the Cornucopia. There'll even be knives there. Don't go for it."

Rosie's jaw tightened, "Really?" She asked, her mind telling her that even just getting one weapon and leaving would give her the advantage she needed.

"It's a bloodbath. They're trying to pull you in. That's not your game. You two find each other, you run, you find high ground, look for water. Water's your new best friend." He nodded, scratching at his freshly shaved neck. "Don't step off that pedestal early or they'll blow you sky high."

Rosie shook her head as her fingers began to shake. The doors to the metal death trap, also known as an elevator-Rosie decided she hated them-slid open and she saw an intimidating-looking hovercraft waiting for them. The pair exited the elevator and began moving toward the grey hovercraft when Kit grabbed her wrist and stopped them. "Rosie, you can do this," Kit said honestly. His jaw clenched as he admitted his hopes, anxiety bubbled in his stomach at the thought of having gotten invested in the girl's life only to see her killed. But she could do it, he knew that, she just needed to do it now.

Rosie gave him a stiff nod, "Thanks. I'll see you in a bit." She wasn't bidding him a goodbye, it was merely a 'see you soon', something you'd say at the beginning of a long day at work, not The Hunger Games, but it highlighted how determined she was to make it through.

On shaky feet, she climbed up and took her seat on the hovercraft. Rosie's mind was racing as she tried not to dissolve into panic, something she was struggling more and more to ward off, the idea of waiting until she was back in her bed at District 9 was getting harder to maintain.