❝ never trust a survivor
until you find out
what they did
to stay alive ❞
―Kurt Vonnegut, Bluebeard
[ the maze runner × the hunger games ]
No one was ever happy in District 12. They were the poorest among the distric...
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THE MOCKINGJAYS FINALLY quietened down after some time, and by then night had fallen.
Rosalind got up and trudged away from the lake, heading back to the shelter. She only knew about the Mockingjays because of Katniss―she remembered how the grey-eyed girl had told her tales of the birds, how they could mimic sounds and noises, and if you were lucky―music.
She remembered how Peeta had came home from school one day with a dazed look on his face. She had asked Percy what was wrong with him, and he had sung playfully that Peeta was 'in love'.
When she questioned Peeta about it later on, he admitted to her that he heard Katniss sing during the school assembly, and how the Mockingjays outside had stopped to listen because her voice was just that beautiful. Rosalind had a fascinatio with Mockingjays ever since.
She glanced around as she stepped into the shelter. Thomas nodded at her in acknowledgement and tossed her a bag and a jacket. Newt stayed silent in his place, pretending to be very busy with sharpening his axes.
Rosalind went over to a corner of the shelter so that she was as far away from the blond as possible.
She laid on the ground, staring up at the ceiling. Next to her, Thomas was trying to light a fire, striking some flint over a pile of dry wood. After a long while, with Rosalind and Newt were shivering uncontrollably in their own little corners, the pile finally caught ablaze, and a small fire roared. A warm glow emanated from the flames, and deep, dark shadows stretched and flickered about on the walls and ceiling. Waves of heat rippled through the air, melting away the chills that resided under her skin.
There was scuffling and shuffling―then silence. Only the crackling of the fire could be heard.
After hours of laying down on the uncomfortable soil and tossing, Rosalind sat up and rubbed her eyes. Sleep wouldn't come. That much was for sure.
She risked a glance around the space; Thomas was staring up at the ceiling with exhausted eyes. Newt's back was to her, and she couldn't be sure if he was really asleep.
"Can't sleep?" Thomas said when he noticed her sat up.
She nodded.
"Yeah, me neither." Thomas let loose a wide yawn. "Pass me the water, will you?"
She obliged, handing over the water bottle to him. As she did so, she picked up the crossbow that she had laid beside her backpack and checked to see if it was loaded.
"I'm going out," she announced.
Thomas' head immediately shot towards her. Rosalind's sharp eyes caught Newt's body stir ever so slightly, but she wasn't sure if it was just her imagination.
