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ivymirrorball768 · 4 days ago

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Hey, Little Songbird

Chapter 11: Seeing as you've got nothing to lose

series summary: sejanus plinth’s great grandchild (you) gets reaped for the 69th hunger games.

warnings/notes: graphic depictions of violence, dizziness, emotional distress, typical hunger games themes and injury, severe injury. pictures above from my moodboard for halle. the arena.

pairing: finnick odair x reader

wc: 7.1k ao3 link

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

And the choice is yours if you're willing to choose Seeing as you've got nothing to lose And I could use a canary

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

You knew that time would slip away.

It always did.

Sand through your fingers, hands cupped tightly, desperately so it would sift through slower. That was something you’d grown accustomed to, trying to halt time.

Once you had something good, the certainty of it lasting was infinitesimal, yet the more you fought to keep what you had, the further it seemed to struggle against your grasp.

Most times your worry was premature, ridden by insecurity and anxiety of the unpredictability of life. Now, however, none of this was overthinking, in fact the path was so very predictable, and yet you still couldn’t seem to accept that. To let the precious moments slip by.

Your mind floated as though it was on a raft in the ocean. It wasn’t far from the reality, feet dangled over the edge, toes dipped into the water, fishing rod in hand. At the pond. In the arena. Not free in some great wide expanse of sea back in district 4 - home - which had always welcomed you, but rather surrounded by harsh chirping grass hoppers and multi-coloured frogs that were surely artificial and most certainly poisonous.

As far as you were concerned, the far side of the pond was off limits after the previous night’s attack even if the gamemakers were unlikely to use the same trick twice. Fortunately, the stinging pain had seized leaving only a lingering itchiness and peeling of the skin. It was heaven compared to the agony before - the sponsorship had worked wonders. It made the days work easier.

The decision was to stock up on resources and get moving the following day as that would give a solid two days by running water and live fish without leaving you as sitting ducks. Sticking around a source like this for too long would be a recipe for disaster, especially with the majority of the career pack still in full swing.

Moss had spent the later morning checking the snares they’d set the day before. Most were untouched, but three contained now-dead animals. Two rabbits and one bird. As Moss strung them up, you couldn’t help feel nauseous at the sight, the only ease in the fact they were Capitol-made, unnatural. Still, you avoided the scene for now.

Halle sluggishly sat beside you.

“So.. how does it all work?” Eying your fishing rod with great intrigue.

You temporarily pulled the hook out of the water to demonstrate visually, pointing at different aspects and explaining how each part worked. From the look on her face, the common item bewildered her, evidently an uncommon item for district 12. It was almost comedic giving how ingrained it was in 4. You’d known all about fishing from the age of five. Until now, you thought everyone did.

The districts really did vary.

“Can I try?” Halle asked apprehensively.

“Sure.” You beamed, eagerly arranging her grasp around the makeshift rod. “Now, they look a bit different from this at home as this is mostly… well two broken bits of stick, some wire and rope, but it gets the job done just fine.”

Your eyes widened in panic as Halle leaned in to look at the hook, drawing it closer to her face.

“Whoa there!” You let out a harsh breath. “That is sharp. It’s gotta be able to dig into a fish, so it can certainly dig in to your skin. Or worse, an eye. So be careful.”

The anxiety passing through you was familiar. It felt the same as when your little brother would do something silly and dangerous and your blood would rush in instinctual worry.

Halle’s lips parted at your evident concern as she carefully eased away from the shaped wire.

“Yeah.” She breathed rubbing the back of her neck in childlike regret, “Sorry, I didn’t think.”

You shook your head, “It’s fine, I did the same when I was little.” Rolling your eyes in a small, genuine laugh. “You’re going to be a real professional at this by the end of the day, just like me.”

Maybe that was an exaggeration, but it surely motivated her as she beamed at you in return, eager to begin.

You helped position her grip around the stick of the rod, allowing her to angle the hook carefully into the water. From then on, most of fishing was about patience, so you had plenty of time to find a topic to distract your mind from the games at hand.

“What’s it like back home, in District 12? We don’t get to hear much about the other districts.” You hummed, staring at the bobbing water.

Halle’s carefree smile faltered and you almost regretted asking until she gathered herself and began to explain the best parts of her home. The little things seemed to matter to her.

“Sometimes, if it’s a good month, Pa gives us some money to go to the little sweet shop in town.” She began to recall gently.

“And I’d take my little sisters there, and the looks on their faces - oh - it was… like there had never been a grey cloud in the sky. Constant sunlight. I never saw them so happy as that first time we went. My Ma used to take me before she passed…” Halle hesitated, the gleeful memory holding a lingering shadow of grief.

“I couldn’t go anymore once she was gone because we didn’t have enough money. But Pa would make sure, on special occasions, I’d be able to give my sisters the same joy she gave me.”

The tone in which she spoke held something deeper, something you tried so desperately to pinpoint as she continued. Her words were a celebration of district 12 tied up neatly in a bow as a eulogy. She didn’t seem to think she’d ever return to that same place.

A part of you wondered if she too was resigned to her fate, like yourself. Birds of a feather.

She was far too young for that.

But you knew that she held a frightening awareness of the fragility of time, despite her age. You suspected it had something to do with her upbringing. She’d told you all about her family as you'd wondered towards the meadow: her younger sisters, her pa, and her long-dead ma. Life had pushed her to grow up too fast and see everything for what it truly was - temporary.

The truth of the world around you was that whatever the three of you had here couldn’t possibly last. You were all playing a much different game than the one you’d been thrown into, one of care and protection rather than fierce self-serving violence. Each of you fought together as a unified front, far from any typical alliance in the arena. The careers only teamed for their own gain, whereas you worked for each others. It was district unity, something the Capitol would surely eliminate - your great grandmam had taught you that much.

Realistically, none of you held the odds of winning. Two 15-year-olds and a 12-year-old ready to take down however many tributes remained? Unlikely. You’d seen the others in the training centre, witnessed their ferocity and power, especially from districts 1 and 2. If anyone were to win, it’d be them.

You weren’t built for victory, the drive to live wasn’t as strong as it should’ve been, the fight didn’t run through your veins in the same way.

At some point you’d lost track of what Halle was actually saying, but were drawn back in by a light tugging at the rod, the water around it rippling gently. The pull startled Halle. You encased her hands firmly in yours to assist in raising the fish out of water.

She gasped once the gaping fish was within view, flopping helplessly.

A bit like the boy from 10. As humans drowned in water, this fish would suffocate on oxygen.

You refocused, grasping the crafted rope netting to lay the fish in. Halle looked at it with caution before curiously prodding at the scaly flesh. Her hand retracted soon after, perplexed by the slimy texture. It occurred to you then that she’d likely never seen a live fish up close.

“It’s a bluegill.”

“A what?”

“That’s the kind of fish it is. There are different species. This one-” You pointed at the features. “Is named because of this part here, called the gill and it’s always blue. Simple name, rather self explanatory.”

Halle looked closely at it with intrigue. “Are we going to eat that thing?” She frowned as you detached the hook.

“Yep.”

“But it’s so little and floppy.”

“It’s the same as you ate last night, just a tad less cooked.”

“It’s alive!”

“And you’re hungry. We gotta keep you alive too.” You poked at her playfully to diffuse her worries.

“Besides, fish don’t normally live so long anyway, this one is hardly little. Also, if we don’t eat it they’re hardly going to let it go freely once the games are over. This fish was dead from the moment it got caught in the Capitol’s net.”

Or we were dead from the moment we got plucked from the Capitol’s bowl.

Your explanation seemed to soothe her a little, her lips pulling to the side in a half accepting grimace before she ran off to find Moss, who was setting up more snares and gathering wood for the fire. The arena was large enough to not worry about other tributes spotting smoke, especially with the array of willow trees encompassing the view, it’d be difficult to track this year.

The day felt as though it passed too quickly though you couldn’t be certain if it was the of the gamemakers creation or your own poor perception of time. It was the fourth day in the arena, yet sometimes it felt like a lifetime. You doubted wouldn't have made it so long without Halle and Moss. They allowed sleep, gathered food, kept watch, but most of all they offered company. Sweet, joyous moments amidst the chaos.

It was still far too quiet.

This year was slow, spread out, painfully paced. Calm even.

But there was so much you didn’t know, so much unanswered. The water, for one, there was too much water, in the crevices between mounds of grass, interweaved with the path. And it was deep, you’d had to trek Moss and Halle through part of it when finding the pond and it fell far further than your height.

What was in that water? Beyond treasure and hydrilla and coral. Tributes? Beneath your feet? Lurking?

There was a gnawing ache settled in your stomach at the thought because you truly had no idea what to expect. What was going on around you unknowingly to provide the three of you with such temporary solace?

It couldn’t be good.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Nightfall came fast, but it wasn’t a blessing. Two canons had bellowed like a knell just hours earlier and the sky was about to be lit with the fallen friends or foes or empty faces.

Either way, dead.

District 5: Cabel Skyforest

Another young one, your age.

District 8: Presley Blossom

You didn’t recognise either of them. Nobody of importance. To you at least. To their families, time and space had fractured ungracefully like a shattered antique tea set with the handle hanging off the mug. Not yet detatcted or settled in its state but deceptively salvageable. They wouldn’t ever be able to piece it back together, but they’d never discard the scattered shards.

It was growing tiring, seeing the sky alight with the harsh blue glow. 17 were dead. Yet it wasn’t even enough to satiate their sick desire for bloodshed. 36 tributes this year, 12 more than usual, 19 remained. They were going to start reducing the numbers quicker, right?

The willow tree provided similar comfort to the night before, Halle curled up beside you as Moss agreed to take first watch. Despite that, you couldn’t rest. Tomorrow you would move location, back to the Meadow perhaps? It was familiar, but not rich in resources.

You’d had a lucky few days, saving up the majority of the dried fruit, granola bars and crackers found in the backpacks, but eating the fresh fish and rabbit. It would last a while if spread thinly, but Halle was already fragile enough from years of malnourishment. It wouldn't be smart to stay somewhere that unreliable, even with the serene view to compensate.

The other option was the valleys. Large, unfamiliar, mountainous terrain. Anything could lurk there, but so could resources. The thoughts swirled in your mind, settling uncomfortably in a sleepless daze.

After a while you sat up and faced Moss, their eyes narrowing at you.

“You should be sleeping. It’s best to rest if we’re going to be doing so much walking tomorrow.” They commented bluntly, voice hushed enough not to wake Halle.

You exhaled shakily. “Yeah well, we don’t know what awaits. Doesn’t that scare you?”

“Of course it scares me, idiot.” They rolled their eyes at the fact you even had to ask, not out of malice, and then huffed quietly.

“Tell me, do you have a plan?”

A plan. There was nothing so constructed to be deserving of the label. All you had was skeletons of ideas, graves of guilt and the heavy burden of responsibility.

“No plan.”

“Okay, then let’s run through a little hypothetical here because I need to know just what I'm in for. Say in some crazy twist of fate, we end up in the final 3." They paused.

"Who’s dying first?"

The question took you aback, your eyes widening a fraction at the sheer suggestion as Moss’ gaze burned into your skin, vulnerable, knowing, demanding an answer.

Because there were so many factors.

Would you be willing to die? For her.

The girl curled up beside you soundly sleeping, retreating from the world into you, her warm sun. Her shield.

Moss knew the answer. You knew the answer.

But the words wouldn’t leave your lips, not when the whole of Panem was watching and waiting for your answer. Begging for entertainment whilst your family pleaded for the opposing answer.

And what if Moss wouldn’t resign themself to death in the same way you could? What if they fought and hurt Halle? Would you kill them for that? Could you?

“Halle lives.” Was all you managed.

An unrecognisable expression passed across their face. Cold eyes heavy with a lingering emotion. Then, their lips upturned into a point-proving, glassy eyed, genuine smile.

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You breathed, potentially in relief. The weight of it all was heavy. To find someone who matched your care, the soft weight of your unyielding love. Someone else who knew there was no escape, who hadn’t resigned their fight, but found another infinitely more powerful purpose.

Your hand reached for theirs, fingers intertwining, apprehensive, reassuring and most of all, understanding.

Sure, Moss may have been upfront practicality countering your freer, less organised spirit, but both of your care for Halle was insurmountable - uniting. And you cared for them more than you’d like to admit.

“You’re good. Too good for all this. You should be able to live a long and happy life- not die like this- Here.”

Your frustration bubbled up momentarily at the thought. Moss gently squeezed your hand, anchoring you back. A reminder that the anger was futile and the moments were precious.

“I could say the same for you. You and your little harmonica.” They teased, laughing quietly into the night.

“Y’know we all thought you were crazy when we saw that at the interviews. And then the lyre?” Moss tutted.

��Even madder. Nobody could top that. It was so odd, I almost forgot the reason we were here until you started singing that song. I think it almost made them pity us for once.”

“That must’ve been magic then.” You laughed “Y’know- I asked Finnick if I could bring the harmonica as my district token.”

Moss snickered at the egregious suggestion. “As if that’s not a tell-tell sign of your exact location!”

“I know- I just, I don’t know, okay! It sounded like a good idea at 3am. A spirit lifter if you will.”

“Now that explains it. 3am craziness.”

Halle began to stir, at the sudden increased volume and jostling of your conversation. You carefully detached your hand from Moss’, giving them a final glance before shuffling back into your previous position for Halle.

“I’ll take watch.” You whispered. A peaceful silence befell, not tense, but a haze of calm acceptance. This would be your final fight before an eternal slumber.

Not long left to go.

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The morning rose differently than the last four with a sense of clarity you’d never felt before. There was a newfound determination and camaraderie. You had a purpose. A duty of care. Self-assigned, self-professed, and damning.

Today you’d get moving early to explore the arena, perhaps take the high ground of the valleys as the view would allow a scope of what to expect.

Halle was still resting in an undisturbed sleep, lulled by the quiet chirping of the birds. Her body was curled against the stump of the willow tree, the daisy in her braids wilted and wiry.

Whilst Moss moved to collect up yesterday’s snares, you gathered up the backpacks and gear lying upon the grass - scattered rope and netting.

Once Moss was done they packed up the leftover wire for re-use and were ready to move. You helped fasten Halle’s blowgun into the hole in her belt designed for knives. The darts stayed in the outer pocket of her backpack, easy enough to reach, but not too close she could accidentally injure herself.

“Are we ready to go?” Moss asked.

“Almost, I just need to get one more thing.”

You grinned, spotting a patch of daisies and dandelions in the grass. Clumsily, you reached for the tallest daisy, poking into Halle's braids once more after discarding the wilted one from the day before. You brushed the dirt off on your legs.

“There. Now we’re ready.”

She smiled up at you, small and grateful. Moss offered their typical tender yet impatient look, eager to get moving. You trudged along the tickly grass, looking towards the desired destination.

The valleys were within view between the trees, but the true span of its distance further was undetermined; you could be walking for a while East before you reached them.

Even then, it would be best to stay between the height during night, until you gathered equipment for warming after all there were no sleeping bags in either of your backpacks. So far, the three of you had been fortunate enough with the overall mild temperature of charming sunlight and an intermittent harsh breeze, but nothing too insufferable. Who could say if that fact remained atop the hills?

The other concern was the air; it'd likely thin with the altitude. You'd noticed from the moment you'd broke the water on the first day that there was something wrong with the oxygen you were breathing. On deeper thought, the problem had been getting increasingly worse as time continued on. The change was subtle, building up like a clogged drain pipe waiting to overflow.

The dizziness for one. It came in waves, worsened by mutts and exhaustion. Nobody else had mentioned it, although why would they? Anyone could certainly pin it down to anxiety.

But you knew better. The hydrilla had amplified it tenfold, each attack holding a recurring theme.

The arena was far too simple from where you stood, yet the unknown factors were so profound. The water, the dizziness, the bees, the plants.

Nature. That was it. Nature was killing everyone slowly. Survival of the fittest. The 69th Hunger Games.

The early days were nothing more than the calm before the storm. As the games racked on, tributes would get more and more delirious, careless, irritable. They'd turn on each other, forget how to survive, stumble around high on drugged air.

You hadn't realised you'd been so lost in thought until Halle shook you out of it with that carefree smile of hers; by now you'd covered an hour or so of distance. She was pointing at something. Your eyes refocused, the blurry haze departing.

A bridge above water, providing route across a wide flowing river.

It was a rickety old thing appearing as though it had been aged by time, cut from ancient oak and carved many years before. But it hadn't. This was a cultivated design by none other than the Capitol. Unnatural and certainly deceptive.

But it looked beautiful. So enchanting and alluring, covered in ivy above a glistening flow, that Halle bounded forward without a second of thought.

Once she stepped upon the curve, the plank creaked beneath her feet, yet it didn't give way or fracture. Nobody would be plummeted into the rushing water, so you and Moss followed closely behind, each pausing in the centre of the bridge and peering over the side.

The sun reflected upon the teal and it almost felt like home. You could imagine the river that ran through District 4 running deep within the forest beside your house. A shrouded area, safe, quiet, unbusied by the fishermen. Pa would take you there, dropping sticks in the stream and racing until they were pulled by the current out of view. You smiled at the thought.

Until the reflective shapes morphed into something uncanny. Your own reflection staring back at you and evolving through expressions of sorrow. The water cried. Then the image changed once more, merging and pulling at your cheekbones, aging wrinkles of skin, eyes shifting colour until they weren't yours anymore.

Your Ma.

Instinctively, you reached to feel your face, the reflection copying the move, but what you felt was not what you saw. It was an illusion. One you forced yourself to look away from once you'd heard Halle's yelp.

She looked like she'd seen a ghost.

Your eyebrows furrowed together in worry, her expression unfamiliar and aged, eyes locked on the water as though she was about to sink down into it, so you followed her gaze, eyes meeting with a young woman whose dark eyes held the sweetest smile. Her hair was naturally coiled and her dark skin smeared with coal across her nose.

Halle's hurt voice broke through the quiet rush of the flowing river and the harsh hum of the wind. "Ma?"

She was leaning far onto the wooden railing, weight pushed forward in mindless action. You knew then that it was another sick trap. One that swirled anguish and buried fury within your souls.

How dare the Capitol use your loved ones? How dare they get into your heads and destroy your mind as well as your body? Take your autonomy, take your life, take your death too?

You tossed a broken stick towards the reflection as your Pa had once done, but the illusion wouldn't shatter. In fact, this seemed to anger it more. This time the discoloured eyes of the mothers became hollow. Empty lifeless seashells.

It only distressed Halle more, but your attention was instead locked upon your lovely Ma's ghostly face. You'd never seen her in such a state.

It wasn't her.

It was a sick, deathly face. The natural, homely light of her eyes faded and cold.

Moss was the first to wake out of the trance, abruptly shaking the two of you and pushing your trembling bodies across the bridge of deceit. The second your feet hit the grass, a semblance of sanity returned, your hands instinctively reaching to pull Halle into your warm hold. She was holding back the tears threatening to flood her eyes as she recalled a face buried years before.

After a while, Moss reached into their backpack to hand Halle a packet of dried fruit as a peace offering. The three of you sat in the grass, staring out at the river as though something would rise out of the cold flow. None of you spoke, but the silence wasn't of your usual comfort. It was harsh and haunted with inescapable fear.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

It took the three of you a while to moving once more, each part of the terrain met with a different look of trepidation. Nothing was safe. You should've known that before, but now it was more apparent than ever. The uncanny reflection felt carved into your psyche, a face no longer yours. The memory left a shadow of unique grief upon each of you, though the journey was far from over.

Much of the terrain you passed was achingly similar, the intermittent question echoing of if you'd even moved at all. On the first day, you'd been lucky to even find the meadow, a haven from the endless willow and water.

The gamemakers had certainly added variation despite the monotonous feeling: ponds, rivers, thin streams, wells and, of course, the ginormous lake at the centre of the arena connecting it all and burying the deepest treasure of all - the cornucopia. You'd hope never to see that deadly body of water ever again. The changes in scenery were subtle at best in the direction you were heading. All pointing towards the hazy valleys.

A fleeting hope you grasps so dearly onto.

"Do you know where fish keep their money?"

You commented as though it was the most natural thing in the world. After all, you were the most knowledgeable about fish, being from District 4.

"Where? I didn't know they had money." Halle murmured, more tiresome than usual but with equal intrigue as Moss' gaze narrowed at you questioningly, the pace of their footsteps faltering.

"A riverbank!" You grinned, far too enthusiastically for the poor attempt at humour. Unsurprisingly, it went entirely over Halle's head. The girl didn't even know what a riverbank was, let alone even consider you to be joking.

Moss caught on.

"Funny." They deadpanned.

"Oh come on, we need to brighten up the mood. Sadness will get us nowhere."

You lightly nudged them, much to their disapproval. Whatever Moss saw exactly was a mystery to you, likely their Ma too, but you'd never asked about their family before or life in District 9. Regardless, their jaw was set tighter and more rigid than usual, eyes distant like the hollowness they'd witnessed.

Your sunny disposition had no place during a time like this. It felt forced, only serving as another means of escape and a way to deny the reality engulfing you. The potent scent of pollen, the incessant chirping of birds, the brush of the willow leaves: everything beautiful felt overbearing and suffocating because you knew it to be inescapable.

At least your resting place would be pretty.

Still, you bounded on tirelessly, much accustomed to travel and adventure, so you didn't wear out too easily. Halle was worse for wear with her little legs struggling to carry her through. Of course, the three of you had been walking for hours by now so it was no wonder the ache was beginning to take a toll.

The day felt as though it was one of the longest yet, the sun even now barely beginning to tumble from its spot in the high sky. You couldn't ascertain whether it was the gamemakers doing, or just your faulty perception. Nothing could be guaranteed at this point. The hyperawareness of the situation warred with the way you tried to push it aside.

You smiled on, walking up closer to Halle and searching for any way to lift her mood. The joke had, unsurprisingly, fallen flat and the arena's beauty been revealed as sinister, so she was left with a treacherous uncertainty replacing the carefree joy she typically held. You'd never seen her so shattered, not even when her district partners, Cole and Heath, had died. This was different, a young spirit being crushed slowly over time.

"We should make a proper flower crown later, there are plenty of wild flowers around. It's about time we made use of them." You looked at her, eyes hopeful and trying.

She only nodded, but you took it as a sign to ramble on.

"Back home my friends used to make daisy chains all the time. We'd sit in the fields for hours sometimes, especially in the summertime." You reminisced.

"It was fun, but I was never very good at all of that. Too much precision, so I'd just make a little bouquet instead. Theirs was far more creative - connected. Still, I'd like to try again." You hummed, noticing you'd caught Halle's focus once more, a sweet distraction from the worry, so you continued.

"My friend James was weirdly good with daisy chains, which was a shock because normally he's a total clutz. Anyway, he kind of taught me, so I'm sure we'll manage. Worst case we can settle for a rope bracelet, my specialty." You grinned.

"I'd like that." She murmured, soft and quiet.

"Yeah! and Moss has to join in too for once, because somehow they've managed to dodge all of our escapades and it just will not do!"

You added firmly, looking to Halle for back up, as you felt Moss' impending eyeroll without even turning.

Halle seemed to brighten up at the idea of some family bonding time and you felt a sense of pride at the shift in mood. It was lighter with less weight of worry as you walked on calmly.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

As the orange haze began to reign over the colourful sky, the valleys were closer than ever, insurmountable hills towering over each of you and paths of sloped grasslands in between. The land was uneven with streams and mounds as the sun sank behind the tallest mounts. The scene peaked through the final row of willows, a breath-taking relief from the endless forest. You were finally out of the woods.

You'd made it and just in time for nightfall.

"Do you want to set up here for the night or keep covering ground?" Moss asked, looking ahead at the tiresome climb. They let out a sigh.

"We've certainly walked enough today to get some well-deserved rest. We'll move onwards tomorrow." All of your gear abruptly dropped to the ground in a liberating breath. It was too heavy to carry for so long and you were more than thankful that there would be some semblance of peace once more.

"I agree, that was exhausting." Halle groaned, wiping the sweat from her forehead.

All you looked forward to was food after that painstaking trek, but unlike the night before, there was no fresh fish to be smoked over a flame. You were stuck with a granola bar, some crackers and some cold rabbit leftovers. Even then, it could certainly have been worse, but compared to the days before the arena fattening you up for slaughter, this paled. Halle's stomach grumbled, the perfect indication for you to start sorting out the meal.

You were so engrossed in rummaging through the contents of your backpack that you missed the dull rustling of the leaves.

Behind you was the final row of willows, the giant trees leaves cascading down acting as a curtain falling just above the soil. It left enough room for two feet to be spotted peaking out ever so slightly, if you were looking, but you weren’t.

You didn’t look.

Neither did Moss, who was too encompassed with worry for the deadly path ahead and staring out into the distant sunset which sharply caressed the unexplored valleys.

"Did I put the dried fruit in your bag or mine?"

You muttered, half to yourself as you searched, memory faltering from either dizziness or carelessness.

You hummed as you found it in your front compartment all along. These damned compartments, who'd need them in the Hunger Games? Awful design feature.

"There! I've got it, no need to worry." You smiled, looking up at the two.

As your gaze rose, you finally spotted the apparent scene before you, alerted by the singular dagger darting through the air, brushing past the curtain of the willow. It flew with swift, practiced aim landing a hit to Halle's torso.

Your eyes widened at the realisation, throat heavy, sickness bubbling up in your stomach, but now was not the time. Fumbling with the backpack once more, you scrambled for the bandages before running towards the girl - your spear discarded in the grass.

There was a deep crimson already seeping out of the wound, her hand grasping at the site of injury, clasping at one of the knives.

She had to know not to pull it out, it would only upset the flow and make her bleed out. It was common knowledge in training. She knew it, right? Her hands shuffled at the pervading object helplessly with an expression dreadfully similar to how you’d first found her underwater, fearful and blubbering.

Your eyes were locked on her alone, nothing else mattered at that moment. You had equipment and medical training, plus the injury wasn’t too bad yet. It didn’t seem to hit anything obviously fatal.

You could patch her up.

Yes, if you worked fast enough with the help of Moss you could take them out one at a time. Moss was precise with these kinds of things. Together you could certainly do it.

Knife out, pressure on the wound, bandage on, disinfect whenever possible.

She hadn’t hit the soil, stood shakily but not dangerously so, meaning that dirt wasn’t likely to have entered the wound just yet. It could be cleaned in the nearby stream and the path there was hardly far, it was within view even.

She’d be fine.

Halle would be fine.

You just needed to convince her of that, there was evident distress overriding her expression. If she panicked it’d all be worse, her heart pumping faster, blood flowing quicker. Calmness would be key.

“You’re okay-” You began softly.

Now beside her, arm placed gently on her shoulder as you offered your typical hopeful smile. She was crying, hiccupped tears escaping her throat.

All you had to do was create a little story, like you always did. This was nothing new. You’d done it hundreds of times for your little brother; you'd patched him up too. It was simple after the kid knew they’d be fine.

Halle opened her mouth to speak.

Your name falling from her lips, broken and unsure, just as a second dagger lodged itself into her skull.

No.

Square in the forehead, just like the test dummies. Except this time there was no reset button.

No.

The choked breath left you before your mind caught up. Your hands clutching at the medical supplies you carried. The hope in your arms.

She let out a gasped shriek. Then the canon echoed faster than you could’ve expected. Her canon.

Followed by the thud of a body hitting the ground.

No.

No no no no no.

You ran your hand over her face, looking at the injury like it was fixable.

Like you could save her again.

Her eyes were open, expression blank, mouth wide.

That sunny smile, quiet peace replaced with a grim image, worse than even her Ma had looked in the deformed reflection.

You knew she was dead. You had to, the canon told you. She was dead before she'd even hit the ground.

This wasn’t something you could reimagine.

Halle was dead.

And she died saying your name.

Hearing your lie.

You hadn’t meant for it to be a lie. You swore you hadn’t. She was okay! She was going to be okay. You could have saved her again. You could’ve!

“I’m sorry- Halle, I’m sorry- so sorry”

The words tumbled out incoherently, repeating themselves in an endless circle, going round and round in guilt and anguish, tears streaming down your face. Speaking to a corpse.

You should’ve realised there was someone there.

It didn’t take much to realise.

It was common sense.

But you were too focused on the injury, absorbed in saving this poor girl. You may as well have forgotten where you were entirely. This was the hunger games, there was always more danger to come.

The body lying beside you was the worst sight you’d ever seen. Dagger a meter deep into her forehead, the blood trickling down, streaming and pooling in her eyes sockets as more trailed into her open mouth. Tangled within her dark braids, the daisy had began to wilt. It’s white colour splattered with crimson. Purity dead.

The hope of protection betrayed.

Your sunlight dimmed, purpose shattered.

And for the first time, there was no fairytale to be told, no song to be sung even as your Ma's poem rung through your mind: "And all must die."

The first choice you'd made in the arena was to save her. Without her, you were entirely lost.

Your mind was swirling, thoughts catching like loose threads, dwelling on panic and running on distress - you were standing so close to her that you could have stepped in the way, if you’d have just focused some more. That the perpetrator should’ve aimed for you, they’d already done enough to Halle.

Your knees buckled in helpless distress, leaving you kneeling over her lifeless form.

Then

A canon.

You blinked through the haze of tears, gaze finally leaving Halle, in confusion.

Who?

Your head snapped, eyes darting around the scene before settling on Moss, a few feet away from you.

They were by the curtain of the willow now, the direction that the daggers flew from. But they weren't alone, there was something else with them, but you couldn’t make it out, rubbing your glazed eyes. As your vision focused, you took in the other figure, squinting. Moss was lunged forward, spear deep in a recognisable child.

All too familiar. Like you'd seen them before, many a time, a face you promised never to harm.

No.

It wasn’t her. It couldn’t be her.

Your district partner. Tulip. She didn’t kill Halle. She wouldn’t kill Halle. Why would she kill sweet little Halle?

It wasn’t fair. None of it was fair.

And Moss, oh Moss, exacting their revenge upon the soul who’d shattered Halle’s kind glow. But it was all a cycle of loss and agony tearing through your mind.

They’d used your spear too. First the boy from 5s. And you didn’t even know his name. So much blood on one weapon.

Another dead kid.

As your expression crumbled into sheer horror, you felt the bile rising to your throat. Emotions overflowed your senses: sorrow, shock, rage.

You were seething through the sobs now, breathing heavy through a whirlpool of emotions.

Vengeance wasn’t always sweet. It could be bloody and vile. And painfully misdirected. Tributes blaming each other as the blood quite literally dripped from children’s hands, even though they were only puppets too. The vengeance was misguided at Tulip. The Capitol deserved a spear to the heart.

Then the anger faltered as it occurred to you that you’d lost them both. The little ones.

Halle was only twelve. Tulip was only thirteen. Little girls. Children. Dead. Mind swirling with anguish and loss.

Tulip. Cold, quiet, orphan Tulip. Who never stood much of a chance in life even before the games. A deep part of you mourned her. Even as you registered that she’d been the one to tear the life out from Halle’s eyes and replace them with oceans of blood.

A gurgle of blood.

That was a new sound and it wasn’t coming from the girl beneath you.

And just as quick as the last.

That same sound echoed again.

Fuck.

You turned, as you found Moss dead just as fast. Their chest torn from their body.

The shrill terror escaped your throat once more. Your head felt as though it was imploding, reality collapsing as your devoted world collapsed like a sandcastle you'd once built. Washed away by the unforgiving tide, returning back to it's original form. For them, dust.

Sunken into the soil, body one with the Earth, curled and bloodied.

Finally sense overtook you. There was another person here, you were alert enough from the commotion to realise.

Your frantic eyes locked with the girl’s, her clothing adorning the colours of district 5, a mulberry shade. She was holding a bloodied mace, spikes torn from Moss’s choking body, as crimson splattered across her blonde locks.

Alongside the scarlet streaks, an expression of abject terror painted her face - there was no satisfaction in this kill. In fact, she looked as frightened and distraught as you. It didn’t go unnoticed that her weapon was raised in your direction, even as her grip was unsteady, quaking and uncertain.

The silent threat wasn’t enough to make you move.

To pull your knees from the blanket of grass and part with the poor souls beside you. The soil beneath you had morphed into a graveyard, the flowers littered as a solemn pity and a cruel reminder of all you’d lost.

The floods of tears didn’t stop, streaming across your cheeks until they landed upon the face you kneeled over, mixing in with Halle’s blood. You wept above her lifeless body, barely seeing through the haze of grief.

The girl from 5 was frozen in place too. Blinking vision between her mace, the bodies and Tulip’s cold silence. Her gaze was pitying as she recognised the jade-colour branding you and Tulip as partners. Neighbours. Friends?

She waited a moment longer with charged indecision, before she settled on disappearing back through the curtains of the willow.

Leaving you to mourn in the hollowness of life.

You’d taken Halle’s blowgun with you. It had lain in her limp hand, unused, unbloodied. Kind.

You just kneeled there with no idea how to comprehend what had happened. Your mind delayed in the scale of tragedy, whilst your heart knew, torn and aching. Each night you'd questioned the slowness of the canons wondering why so many remained and finally you had an answer.

Because this was all a show. And their deaths had been anything but an accident. It was all building up to this.

Halle had known deaths cold shadow to be following her long ago.

Now, they’d gone to visit the birds.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

Chapter 12: (not yet done)

PLAYLISTS, The Meadow (Halle & Moss playlist)

i bet on losing dogs </3

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