chapter twenty-eight

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chapter twenty-eight
COMMON GROUND

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No nightmares wake her nor disturb her stomach in the middle of the night again, so when Sage eats breakfast this morning, she goes for something more adventurous than her bland dinner last night. Peach pancakes drenched in syrup and some bacon. She shovels the food in ravenously, and Shep seems to have a similar appetite as he devours his eggs. Philo just eyes both of them in silence over his morning mimosa.

Ptolemus must've snuck out some point this morning. She isn't sure how she didn't notice, perhaps her body was too tired, but she woke up to a dahlia and a note placed on the pillow beside hers.

See you soon.

Barrow's nurse pours him a fresh glass of orange juice, but he ignores her, still focused on his carving. She's dying to know what it is. Just when she thinks about asking, Philo clears his throat, awkwardly trying to start a conversation.

"Your outfits from last evening were quite popular," he tries brightly. "I heard lots of whistling and chanting of your names!"

"Hm." Sage nods, suddenly losing her appetite as she pokes at her final pancake. "Was it because Shep didn't have a shirt or because I didn't have pants?"

"I imagine both," he answers seriously, raising his brows and smiling like it's a compliment.

Sage decides to ignore him, and she peers over at Shep from the other end of the table. There's some yolk along the bottom of his lips as he dips the corner of his toast in his eggs. She clears her throat. "So what do you think we should do this time? Hide our skills or...?"

It's strange saying it like that. We. Because they're both doing this together as Tributes, not coaching children as Mentors. The last time she had to consider any of this it was Lance at her side, a brave and athletic sixteen year old who should've survived the bloodbath but didn't.

Shep shakes his head, eyes still trained on his breakfast. "No point. They already know what we can do." He glances up at her as if giving her permission. "We have free reign to practice whatever we want to practice really."

"Ooh! You could try swords with Ptolemus!" Philo pipes up, desperately trying to butt into the conversation. She doesn't even look at him. "More couple bonding."

"I'll brush up on my combat skills," she decides, still eyeing Shep.

She waits for him to accept her invitation. He needs to train too, get back into the practice of fighting, especially if he wants to make it to Midnight of the second day. Sage pushes her plate away from herself, and the Avox takes it immediately as she stares down at her lap.

"I can throw a hatchet but fighting someone like Enobaria with it is an entirely different story..." She silently curses herself for not utilizing the last three months to practice that. She was too busy mourning her brother and mourning herself. Could her thirteen inch weapon take on a sword? Probably not...

"But won't you be allying with Enobaria and the other Careers?" Philo asks with a puzzled frown.

Her lips form a tight line at the reminder. "Yes."

Philo pats her shoulder encouragingly. "Well there's nothing to worry about then."

There's everything to worry about Philo.

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