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AVANI AND AVAN REACHED THE WOODS ABOUT AN HOUR LATER.
Avan hadn't spoken at all since Avani had bandaged up his wrists. He was different than he had been when he attacked her at the beginning of the games, or even since the fight at the cornucopia a few short days ago. The intense hunger for death that had once shone in his young eyes had completely faded from his blue irises. His demeanor wasn't cocky anymore, his aura not half as imposing as it had been. He just walked along next to her, quietly. It made Avani curious — what had happened that changed him so drastically? Could it have been the so-called game he'd been enduring, the betrayal, attacks, and confusion from his allies? Or was it something else?
She noticed that he seemed to have a rhythm, when it came to his eyes. A specific way he was trained to shift his gaze when they turned corners or passed alleys to clear blind spots as soon as possible. Each time they turned, she watched his irises move near to far, left to right, down to up, his little fingers twitching beside his thigh, itching for the knife that was still secured on her belt. Although she did see him glance at it every now and again, he, surprisingly, hadn't tried to get it back from her.
As they crossed the threshold where the concrete crumbled and faded into dirt, where the buildings towering over their heads were replaced by trees, she pulled the bloody bowie knife from her belt and held it in his direction.
The twelve-year-old gazed at it for a moment, his eyes flicking from her face, to the knife, back to her face. His cheek and forehead were still splattered with Vixen's blood, dried into a light brown. Now that Avani was only feet from him — and he wasn't trying to murder her — she was finally getting a good look at his face. His features were small; mousy, almost. Without the manic, heartless expression he usually carried, he looked... younger. He had a button nose that was upturned ever-so-slightly, and big, ocean blue eyes with flecks of gold in a ring around his pupil. He'd stopped crying long ago, but the slight puffiness of his eyes and redness of his nose was still there. His stringy blonde hair hung down over his forehead in a messy fringe. Caesar's comment during the scoring ceremony resurfaced in Avani's head, reminding her that Avan's twelfth birthday had been the day of the Reaping.
He was so... small. A whole head smaller than she was, and she was already considered short.
His eyes continued to flick between the knife and her face. "You realize I can kill you with that, right?"
"Yes, I know," She sighed lightly, shaking her head. How many times did he plan on letting her know he was capable of murdering her before the day was over? "I also know you can kill me in seven-hundred different ways with your bare hands-" She pushed away the memory of him beating the District Three girl's head into the concrete over and over, of the insane grappling techniques he knew that could have her on the ground in a millisecond. "-and you haven't. I don't want you walking around in the woods unarmed — not when there's so many places for people to hide."
