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I do very bad things and I do them very well.
Ezra and Griffin set up camp on the highest point of the valley while Clio and Cassia gathered sticks for a fire. It was odd, to be having a fire when that was one of the last things that a tribute would want to do. Making a fire was like asking to be killed. But since Cassia was part of the Careers, she wasn't too worried about the other tributes knowing their location. It was also the first night in the arena, so she doubted tributes would be eager to start killing each other again.
Clio stood watch, her machete out in case someone decided to attack them. She thought of the other tributes that had made it out alive from the bloodbath, the weapons they had procured. During training, she had watched tributes learn how to wield weapons they probably had never held before. The majority of them were kids from strict districts that made having any kind of weapon in possession illegal. Though, she knew that if their will to survive was as strong as her own, using a weapon would be as easy as breathing.
"You're interestingly dark-haired for someone from Four," Clio mused.
Cassia squinted at the short girl, making out her feline eyes and sharp smile. There wasn't a bone in her body that trusted Clio, but playing the Games forced her to do and speak about things she never would. "My mother's family was from Twelve." It was the truth. Some people from Four were not originally from the area, and it was easy to tell. Like her and Gia, both had recognizably, though different, dark features, while someone like Evelin had a more Four-like appearance. Cassia kept her tone clipped, turning back to continue finding sticks. She made care to look out for any more red lizards or other creatures. The last thing she needed was to be killed by a stupid mutt.
A loud noise broke through the unnerving silence of the arena then; the first note of Panem's Anthem. The music was official and boring, filled with the horns of brutal victory against the thirteen districts. There were only twelve districts of course, after the war. The Capitol had destroyed the other.
Cast in the sky, the seal of Panem floated, and then one by one, the faces of dead tributes stared down at them. Cassia gripped the bundle of wood in her arms at the sight of the two tributes she had killed during the bloodbath. The first tribute she had killed was from District Three, and the other, a young boy no older than fourteen, was from District Six. His picture haunted her the most. His shaggy brown hair, large doe eyes, and slender face would surely be the subject of her nightmares for a long time.
"Twelve dead." Clio sighed when the sky closed into darkness once more. "Not including us, there's eight tributes left. That's not too many."
Cassia nodded. "I'm sure we can handle it."
"Hey, look at that."
Cassia looked up to the direction Clio was pointing in, and there was no mistaking the bright flickering of fire in the distance, about forty yards to the left of them. Whoever lit that fire was an absolute imbecile. "What do we do?" She murmured. And despite knowing exactly what Clio was going to say, she had hoped for the opposite.
