Against the Odds (A Crossmare Fanfiction)

Trackerjackers

❤️💜13k What legends you all are💜❤️

Cross looked up at Blue in disbelief, not quite believing he was really there and this wasn't just a hallucination. "...Blue?"

He nodded eagerly, before glancing down at the sleeping figures of the four tributes beneath them. He stared down at them for a minute before looking back up at Cross and pointing to something above him.

Frowning, he looked up to see what he was indicating to. At first he couldn't see anything, other than branches and leaves. But then something caught his eye. Something large and round. A wasps nest. He blinked, catching sight of the small little blobs in the air that flew around outside it before diving in and hiding.

Glancing back at Blue, he saw the smaller making small sawing indications with his hand against the branch he was holding before pointing up at the nest.

He wanted him to drop it onto the Tributes.

Cross stayed still for a moment before he forced himself to grab his rucksack, his eyes scanning over the few knives he had at the bottom. One of them was long and smooth, looking more like a knife your cut butter with over one to cut a branch with. Another was sharp but small, only good for stabbing. And then the third one was practically a bread knife, having sharp serrated edges on the blade like a saw. That would be perfect.

He pulled it out of the bag and quickly stabbed it into the side of the tree, letting it rest there as he untied himself and wriggled himself out of the sleeping bag. He shoved the two liabilities into the bag before slinging it over his shoulders, ensuring that it was tightly fastened. Then he pulled the knife out, gripping it in his teeth and reaching up for the closest branch above him.

The metal blade felt odd in his mouth, sending uncomfortable tingles down his tongue until it felt numb. He could have sworn he felt blood dribbling from it, but he kept his teeth clamped down, scared it would slice his jaw if he loosened his grip even the slightest.

He slowly climbed the tree at a snails pace, his mind being drawn to the fact that his leg and hand didn't hurt any more. Sparing a glance at his hand, he noticed that the angry burn marks were now gone, replaced with a soft pink blushed mark. It would probably fade within the day. He sent a soft thank you to Horror and the sponsors that had sent that pot of salve before pulling himself up to the same branch where the wasp's nest was hanging from.

Straddling the branch and loosening his grip on the knife, he took it from his teeth and curled his fingers around the hilt. He shifted forwards on the branch a bit and leaned over, letting the serrated blade rest on a thinner part of the branch.

He started making sawing motions, keeping a wary eye on the four unsuspecting tributes sleeping far down below.

Geno was shifting a bit, a small frown on his face as he rolled onto his other side. He could see his mouth moving in small mutters, probably sleep talk.

Chewing his 'lip' nervously he continued, sawing as fast as he could at the branch supporting the buzzing nest. With each saw the branch shook, making the nest shudder and the wasps to fly out and investigate. One of them landed on his sleeve, feeling about with its little antennas.

Upon looking at it closer, the smol froze up. These weren't normal wasps like he'd first assumed. No, not at all. These were trackerjackers. A type of wasp which's sting could give powerful hallucinations, and sometimes death. He could remember there being the few odd nest deep in the woods on the boarder line of District Twelve. The memory came to mind of when him and Epic had first stumbled across one of those nests, the older of the two having thought it would be a good idea to poke it with a stick. God they nearly died from the angry swarm they got in response. They'd been seeing illusions for hours before they finally stumbled back through the District's boarder fence. He remembered how mad their parents had been once they'd come back home covered in large purple marks all over their bodies from the stings. They'd steered clear of them ever since.