𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐆𝐎𝐑𝐄 ▸ HUNGER GAMES [ 1 ]

SEVENTEEN

SEVENTEEN -

Peeta settles down at the edge of the shelter and begins busying himself with a pack from the supplies, filling it with essentials we might need out on the hunt later tonight. Marvel cleverly pointed out that at least one tribute will probably be stupid enough to start a fire after nightfall, to warm themselves up. Unfortunately for them, the flames will stand out amongst the darkness of the forest like a beacon, and practically hand us their life on a silver platter.

The rest of us set to work dividing up the rest of the pickings from the cornucopia, and I manage to bag myself a couple of axes to accompany the set of knives, in the process. I slot them into my belt for later use. Marvel and Zafira set up a fire just outside the camp, and we heat up a couple of the food packages pulled from the supplies. With all of us eating together, the atmosphere is tense. Trig and Peeta are both silent throughout the meal, and Zafira barely says a word either, but that comes as no surprise. Cato is leading most of the conversation, though Glimmer's perpetually high spirits seem to boost morale until the sound of the canon disrupts her.

The Gamemakers usually wait to fire the cannon on the first day, until after the initial bloodbath has stopped and most of the tributes have scattered. Eleven BOOMs rent the air, signifying each kill made at the cornucopia and in the couple of hours after. Three of them were my doing. Two boys and a girl. I did not know their names, and can barely remember their faces, but I think that's what makes it easier.

In 2 we are desensitized to violence from a young age – brawls are common both in and outside of the Academy, and it's unlikely for any kid to make it to the age of twelve without both gaining and causing at least one black eye. It's in our blood, the knowledge that only the strongest of us can win, can survive. Even in the quarries those who are weak, their muscles not hardened enough for manual labour, are crushed under the weight of their work. Sometimes literally. 

So we are taught to always better ourselves. In the early years of the Academy, weapons training is postponed entirely until each student has proved themselves in the ring. Our scores and rankings posted in the halls for everyone to see and judge. There has never been any room for failure. And even once each student picks up a discipline, they are still pitted against each other in test after test. Vicious rivalry is encouraged and gradings often end in broken bones. Hitting all your targets makes you successful.

And here in the arena, it will be the thing that keeps me alive. That brings me the crown.

As soon as dusk creeps upon us, we begin gathering our weapons. Trig stays by the camp to continue setting up the mines. If he hadn't stuck around purposefully at the bloodbath in an effort to join the alliance, I wouldn't trust him a lick, but something tells me he cares enough about the protection we offer him not to cause any trouble just yet. Marvel leads the way into the forest, spear in hand. He's tucked a couple of small blades into his belt too. Zafira, Peeta and Glimmer follow close behind him, the latter swiping at the undergrowth with her bow as she walks. I hang back, falling into step beside Cato. It's the first time we've had the chance to speak somewhat alone since last night in the apartment, and his presence is ironically calming.

"How long do you think we're going to be traipsing through these woods before we find something interesting, huh?" I ask him.

Cato gives me a soft laugh. I can't see his expression clearly beneath the darkness of the tree canopy, but the sound is enough to bring a smile to my face. "We could be here all night, but Loverboy thinks he knows which way his girl took off at the cornucopia."

"She could be miles away by now, though." I say. The thought of last night's interview pops into my head. "So it was all bullshit then, after all? All that star-crossed lovers nonsense."