Breathe in, Breathe out • F Odair² •

XVII

"We have a job to do. We can't forget that."

•∘♔∘•

Once the sand ended, the scenery was replaced by the jungle, rising sharply. Most of trees had smooth trunks and few branches. The earth below them was black and spongy, often obscured by tangles of vines with colourful blossoms. The sun was hot and bright, but the air was warm and heavy with moisture, and Athena soon got the impression that was impossible to ever be fully dry here. The thin blue fabric of her jumpsuit allowed the seawater to evaporate easily, but soon it began to cling to her with sweat.

Peeta led the way, cutting through the patches of dense vegetation with his long knife. Athena and Finnick followed behind him, with Katniss bringing up the rear. It didn't take long, between the steep incline and the stifling heat, to become short of breath. Athena and Finnick were in good shape and had been training intensely, and apparently so had Katniss and Peeta, because it wasn't until they had covered several miles that they stopped to rest. The foliage blocked the wheel from view, so Katniss scaled a tree with rubbery limbs to get a better view. Athena, Finnick, and Peeta stayed on the ground, on the lookout for any threats.

She was gone for several long minutes. Athena wondered what she was seeing. A battleground, certainly. They might have had a moment of unity last night, but that didn't change the nature of the Games. Perhaps it made things worse that they showed no restraint or reluctance before jumping right into massacre mode, especially since they had all known each other. They had all been friends. Still, this was the Hunger Games. Compassion and decency never got anyone out alive.

Katniss knew this too. She was bound to know it. And she was bound to act on it, too. Athena and Finnick might have been able to form a tentative trust with her, but that might not be enough, especially once Katniss saw the bloodbath likely still going on and realized once and for all what the only way to make it out alive was. Athena exchanged glances with Finnick, who seemed to be thinking exactly the same thing. He was holding his trident in a casually defensive position. Athena straightened up a little, clutching her spear more tightly. When Katniss returned, her posture tense and a look of grim resolve on her face as her grey eyes landed immediately on them, their suspicions were confirmed.

"What's going on down there, Katniss?" Finnick asked. "Have they all joined hands? Taken a vow of nonviolence? Tossed their weapons in the sea in defiance to the Capitol?"

"No."

"No," Finnick repeated. "Because whatever happened in the past is the past. And no one in this arena was a victor by chance. Except maybe Athena. Maybe. And maybe Peeta too."

She shook her head, but said nothing. His words were a reference not to incompetence, but to the promise she'd made to herself and Rowan not to kill unless absolutely necessary, a vow she had kept that she supposed made him figure she was somehow good in a way the rest of these victors were not. But she still did what needed to be done, and those things were not always good things - in fact, they often were not - and he knew that. And Peeta seemed decent, too, good in a way the rest of them were not. No wonder Katniss had a mind to protect him. Perhaps she felt he deserved it the most.

Finnick and Katniss held each other's gazes. They were sizing each other up, comparing each other's speeds. Katniss was calculating the time it would take to send an arrow throw Finnick's brain versus a trident through Katniss' body. Finnick was trying to calculate how to keep the conflict from spiralling out of control. Athena, however, knew the best way to do this was to stop it from happening altogether, and Katniss wouldn't back out of a fight until she knew Athena and Finnick weren't people she needed to worry about. Or perhaps just people that she wouldn't want to lose just yet.