Catching Fire: Peeta's POV

Chapter Twenty-two

Chapter Twenty-two

The sheath of arrows I was struggling with drops to the ground with a clatter. I bring my knife up, stabbing the monkey until it's jaw releases from the morphling's chest. It's fangs and fur covered in blood. I kick the dead mutation away from me. Behind me Katniss has picked up the sheath.

"Come on, then! Come on!" I shout with rage.

The monkeys are withdrawing, back into the trees. They're no longer interested in us. Something else has their attention like the Capitol is calling them back.

"Get her. We'll cover you," Katniss says to me.

I lift the morphling and carry her the last five yards to the white sandy beach. Katniss and Finnick following me, weapons ready to defend again in case the monkeys come back. I lay the morphling on the ground. Katniss kneels beside the girl, cutting the jumpsuit away from her chest. Four deep puncture wounds from the monkey's fangs. Blood slowly oozes from the wounds and mixes with the white sand.

The morphling lays on the ground, gasping for air. Her sagging skin has turned a sickly green, her ribs prominent against her small frame. It's inevitable. There is nothing we can do to save her. The only thing we can do is wait.

"I'll watch the tree," Finnick say, walking away.

The dying morphling grips Katniss's hand. I kneel down on the other side of her, stroking her hair. I remember the morphlings interest in the camouflage sessions.

I speak quietly. "With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby's skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water."

The morphling's vacant eyes stare into mine.

I continue speaking. "One time, I spent three days mixing paint until I found the right shade for sunlight on white fur. You see, I kept thinking it was yellow, but it was much more than that. Layers of all sorts of color. One by one."

The morphling's breathing is shallow, slowing. Her free hand wipes the blood from her chest in swirling motions as if she was painting again.

"I haven't figured out a rainbow yet. They come so quickly and leave so soon. I never have enough time to capture them. Just a bit of blue here or purple there. And then they fade away again. Back into the air," I say softly.

She lifts her blood covered hand toward my face. She draws the shape of a flower on my cheek.

"Thank you. That looks beautiful," I whisper.

Her face lights up in a smile and a squeaking sound emits from her mouth. Her hand falls back to her chest. The air escapes from her lungs. The cannon fires echoing throughout the arena.

I carry the dead body of the poor morphling out to the water. Setting her body down gently into the water. I slowly return to where Katniss sits. Taking a seat next to her we watch the morphling's body float toward the Cornucopia. A short time later a hovercraft appears, picking her up it flies away into the dark night sky.

Finnick returns, his hand full of arrows, covered in the blood of the monkeys'. He drops them beside Katniss. "Thought you might want these."

"Thanks," Katniss says, getting up to wash the blood away.

Finnick and I don't talk. Just gaze toward the dead monkeys. The vines begin to shift hiding the monkeys bodies. The vines return to their normal positions. The bodies gone.

Katniss returns, her arrows dripping with water. "Where did they go?"

"We don't know exactly. The vines shifted and they were gone," Finnick answers.