The Hunger Games (Peeta's Point of View)

Chapter Sixteen

"W- what?" Cato's voice slices the silence. I know what he's thinking. It's what we're all thinking. He thinks the Gamemakers have betrayed us.  Why would they send a mutt to attack the Careers- twice? But blood already coats the colossal claws- this muttation has already killed. It's a mistake that it's found us. Albiet a very convenient mistake. "R- Run!" he shouts breathlessly, and all the Careers pull themselves to their feet, but none of them are in any state to escape.

      Cato's voice alerts the fox muttation. It's head suddenly snaps towards us, eyes glinting with curiosity more than anything. The eyes are dark, swirled where the light hits them. They remind me of another animal's, although, paralyzed by horror, I can't think what. Paws of ivory dislodge the stones the mutt is standing on, sending rubble and debris cascading down the hill. Though the claws are knife-sharp and bloodstained- and unsheathed- the fox is not poised to strike. The mutt must have some sort of gimmick. Tracker jackers have a deadly venom. Jabberjays are able to repeat sentences. What is this mutt called, and what is its ability?

     Marvel noiselessly draws his sword from its sheath. Though he appears to be fearless in his action, his hand trembles. He adopts a defensive stance.

     "I said run," Cato hisses. Clove complies and slowly steps beside him. I attempt to back away, but Cato grabs my arm. "Don't think you're getting out of this." He stares into my eyes and I can't imagine what thoughts are running through his mind. "If this mutt kills us, we all die together." This act of bravery hits me. If there's one good thing you can say about Cato, it's his bravery.

     Ignoring us, the mutt slowly searches the area, its ears flickering away. Like a brush, its thick tail sweeps some stones, and the mutt's head whips round, almost as if it took it by surprise. 

     "What is it doing?" Clove mutters to herself.

     "That doesn't matter," I say. "We just need to get Marvel out." The beast doesn't seem to be violent- yet- but Marvel's still in danger. It could turn at any minute. We don't know what it'll do. "Marvel!" I hiss. "Get back! Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

     He turns and gives me a defiant look. "Shut up! I don't take orders from you!" Marvel's voice reaches a crescendo.

      Suddenly the mutt leaps and crashes on top of Marvel, engulfing him under its weight.

      "No!" Cato screams, hurrying forward, and the mutt leaves Marvel to pounce on Cato. Cato's lucky, because the beast lands where he was standing a second ago. But Marvel is determined to fight this beast and rushes back into the fray. 

      His blade scrapes against the fox-creature's skin but barely draws blood it's so thick. He cries out in dismay, then agony as the creature's paws knock him over. Writhing on the floor Marvel glares at the muttation. Winded, it's all he can do. 

      Although it would probably be beneficial to let Marvel be massacred by the mutt, I can't just watch him be slaughtered. No matter how savage he is, underneath that exterior is a frightened boy who's struggling for his life. Plus, the guilt I'd feel would crush me. I'm already fighting away the horrific memory of killing that tribute. I don't need images of a mutilated Marvel adding to the mass.

      So I observe the creature's movements and attempt to form a strategy (it would do no good to slash aimlessly at its hide, just to be swatted away and end up like Marvel). I see Clove hurling a knife at it (aiming for its head but hitting its flank) yet the beast doesn't seem to see her- its attention is focused on Cato who's zigzagging in and out between its paws. This strikes me as odd- gaining speed and power as they hurtle through the air, Clove's throwing knifes are dealing more damage than Cato, whose tactics are to confuse the muttation whilst jabbing at its legs. Surely you would want to wipe out the biggest threat first?