Roots of Destruction 𓅫 Finnick Odair X OC

☆10☆

The second day in the arena had been relatively uneventful; two cannons had sounded throughout the day, taking the total number of fallen tributes to thirteen. Briar had spent the majority of the day foraging edible berries and plants in the woodlands that make up the outskirts of the arena. Then, shortly after nightfall, the brunette had successfully snuck past another tribute and settled down into one of the nearby, crumbling buildings for sleep.

Oddly, as the girl wakes up on day three, she feels a reassuring sense of calm. The soft bird chirps and rustling of leaves and branches moving remind her of home and have helped her remain grounded as she navigates the new environment she has found herself in. Her palms dig into the frigid concrete floor as she pushes herself into a seated position, but she ignores the dull discomfort it inflicts and looks around. Her brown eyes scan the shelter she claimed the night prior, looking to identify any new dangers or risks that may have found their way inside overnight. She spies a few bugs, but nothing that she believes could be a muttation, and there's no tributes standing over her ready to kill her so she is happy.

She has managed to ration her water well enough that it lasted all of yesterday, and she has around a quarter left. The brunette grabs her bottle, removing the lid and bringing it up to her dry and peeling lips. She allows two small mouthfuls to glide down her throat before recapping the metal bottle and tucking it into her backpack. The relief it brings her, and more importantly her dry throat, is heavenly. Her food supply is running low so the girl knows she'll need to go hunting before nightfall. Her entire life she's entered the woods and spent time admiring every animal she encountered, so the prospect of hunting them down is particularly daunting. But she's aware that she had no choice. Hunt to secure food and survive, or starve, there are no other options available to her. The healing salve that Johanna had sent her on the first day in the arena likely used a large portion of the sponsors so she's not oblivious to the fact that she'll be receiving little, if any, food via the small metal containers on parachutes.

Briar feels around blindly in her backpack trying to locate either the remaining crackers she has or the last of her protein bars to have in place of breakfast. Her fingers collide with the plastic wrapping of the food and she pulls out the protein bar. It doesn't take long for her to consume it, and she discards the wrapper onto a pile of rubble to her left. Is it littering if I'm in the arena?

Shaking her thoughts from her head, Briar slides her jacket back on and makes her way out of the house. The plan for the day is to spend a fair amount of her time in the serene woodland that occupies the outer perimeter of the arena. It will be easier for her to hide there, especially given her previous experience in the trees, so she'll feel safer there. Not safe, but safer than she does now. Making her way through the arena to the woods will be the issue. It's bright, open, and there are very few places to remain hidden. The stone of the buildings, the dust and gravel on the floor, everything in the district-like city is all grey and bright, reflecting the copious amounts of light that beams into the arena from the sky. It makes the whole place hot, not an unbearable level of hot but enough that it's uncomfortable during the hours where the sun is at its highest.

Making her way out of the building, the brunette uses the rear corner of the building she was in to check the coast is clear. When she is happy that she can't see any tributes or muttations along the road, Briar starts her hike through the abandoned streets of the arena towards the outer ring.

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She holds the cold tip of the knife's blade between her fingertips and slowly crouches even closer to the floor. Her breaths are slow and controlled, she makes a conscious effort to keep them as silent as possible too. She focuses on the fox a few meters ahead of her, she has to get everything right– her aim, her precision, the speed of her throw. After a few more deep breaths, Briar launches the knife; she has absolutely no trained technique with knives like a career tribute might, but she can use them well enough that she can hunt and kill with them... on animals at least. She isn't completely sure she could throw one and kill a human with it, she can only kill people with a knife when it's hand-to-hand and direct.