Night 2
Rumplestilskin tended to his wounds. His temporary truce with Tris had come to an abrupt end when she attacked him.
They had all but plucked the meadow empty when they decided to settle down. Tris was the first to reach their stuff, including her bow. The bag of food was right next to it. When Rumple went down to grab another apple, Tris picked up her bow and swung it hard. It clipped him in the forehead and he tumbled to the ground. He lifted his head to see her nock an arrow. He scrambled to his feet, before she could aim it at him.
He disappeared out of range, even as he heard an arrow slam into one of the trees behind him.
He didn’t go far. He didn’t think she would chase him. That would mean leave the food they’d collected, and risk the chance of another Tribute seizing it.
He cleaned his forehead of blood and chose a mossy part of ground to sleep on. It was softer than anything else. He gathered a heap of the stuff to use as a pillow and settled down. He curled up, and waited for sleep to come. If it would come.
————
Hermione looked at her camps with not a little amount of pride. Her shelter was complete, she had a fire pit dug, with a small fire burning. She hadn’t seen any other Tributes all day, nor had she heard any of them skulking around anywhere in the direct area. She figured a fire was safe for tonight.
She huddled around the flames, warming her hands. She tried not to think about the others. All the enemies that roamed the Arena. All the people out to kill. She shivered that had nothing to do with the cold. Still, she moved closer to the fire and thought only of the warmth it produced.
————
A fist came flying at her face, but Christina threw her arm up to block it. She winced at the force that was behind it. Four was determined to beat her black and blue. Not that she would let that happen. With her free arm, she made a punch of her own, aimed at his stomach. He pushed her away, causing her to stumble and missing her mark.
She tripped over her own feet and fell to the ground. Four was on top her in a heartbeat. His legs straddled her chest while he punched her again and again. Christina screamed and wrenched her arms free. She hit blindly, hoping she hit something vital. After one very lucky hit to the side of his head, Four groaned and paused in his punches.
Christina took this time to open her eyes and try to spot a weakness, an opportunity, anything! She saw her chance dangling from his pocket. A piece of rope, some kind of weapon he’d probably constructed himself. She yanked it loose, and before he could do anything, wrapped the string around his neck.
His hands shot out to the chord, trying to tear it off. Christina applied more force to it, cutting off his air supply. His weight disappeared from Christina’s body as he collapsed to the side and she took advantage of that by swiftly moving behind the gasping Tribute. She put her foot against his back and pushed, while at the same time pulling the chord even tighter. He struggled in vain, but Christina gave no quarter. She didn’t relinquish her hold on the rope until he stopped moving and she heard the cannon shot, announcing another dead Tribute.
Her hands unclenched, dropping the rope. Four’s body fell face first onto the ground. Christina took deep breaths as she tried to recover. She just made her first kill. She let herself fall onto her back, her eyes closed and wished it would all just end.
————
“Danny.”
Daniel startled from his spot and turned to face Cho. She held out a hand to him, motioning him toward her. Daniel subtly looked for where she hid her dagger, but didn’t see it. That didn’t mean she wouldn’t kill him. She’d said so herself. Kind of.
“What?” he asked.
“Come over. It’s cold.”
“It’s night. Nights here are cold. I can’t change that.” He hugged his knees closer to his chest. He shivered. His jacket was still wrapped around Cho.
“You need to get warm. Come on over. We can share body heat.”
“W-what?” he asked again, this time more surprised. “You want to—? Body heat? I don’t think that’s—”
“Please?”
He opened and closed his mouth a few times, but no sound came out. “O-okay,” he finally stammered. He got up a bit clumsily and made his way over. Cho watched him the entire time.
Daniel pushed his back to the tree, and immediately, Cho put her head on his chest. Daniel daren’t move in case he scared her off. Ever so slowly, he wrapped one arm around the girl.
He looked down onto her face, then pushed her hair behind her ear with his fingers. Cho let out a soft sigh and snuggled even closer. It did crazy things to Daniel, being this close to her. He smiled without realising it.
He didn’t know if the heat creeping in his cheeks was due to their shared body heat or something else.
————
The tag team of Will and Harry ended. They hadn’t found a single Tribute, and Will didn’t like the looks that Harry kept shooting at him. So when Harry’s back was turned, he ran off.
As he pushed low branches out of his way, he froze in his tracks. Before him stood District 6’s last Tribute. He studied Will, his dark eyes sizing him up.
“Well, don’t just stand there like a lost lemon.” Hook pointed to the fire. “Have a seat.”
Will hesitated for only a moment. But the temptation of a warm fire was enough to sway him. He felt the heat warm his face. He closed his eyes with a sigh. It was good to be warm.
“You look like hell.”
Will opened his eyes and stared at Hook. The light illuminated his face, but made rest of him so much darker. His hair looked as dark as the night.
“I’ve had a rough couple of days.”
“Can’t be that rough. You’re not dead yet.”
Will lifted his chin defiantly. “I’m not that easily defeated.”
Hook smiled with a nod. “Good for you.”
Will couldn’t help but smile back.
“Tell you what, why don’t you get a couple of hours of sleep, while I stand guard? I’ll wake you up when it’s your turn.”
Will contemplated his offer. It could be a trap. Hook could easily slit his throat once he was asleep. Then again, how bad could it be to die in his sleep?
————
Lula’s fingers were numb. She couldn’t strike up a spark, much less start a fire. She rubbed her hands together in a poor attempt to get them warm again. What she wouldn’t give for a warm fire. To banish the cold from her system.
She pulled up the collar of her jacket and made herself as small as possible, gathering all the heat in one place.
She hoped tomorrow would give her something to fight the cold.
————
Harry ran a hand through his unruly hair. How could it be so difficult to make a fire? Every year Tributes made it seem so easy. Then again, they usually had matches to help them. Harry didn’t.
He sighed as he looked around. There had to be some way to keep warm. He sighed again. Then he spotted a gap underneath a bush. It might keep the cold away, just a little, and it provided cover.
Well, it was better than nothing.
————
Draco started awake when he heard people near the entrance of his cave. His hand found his spear and he held it at the ready.
“Easy there. We’re not here to fight.”
“This is my cave.” He tried to be bold, but his hands were shaking.
“It’s still your cave.” She sounded annoyed now. “We just want a place to sleep.”
“Who’s ‘we’?”
“Tris and Jeanine. We’ve got food, too, which we’re willing to share. Will you let us in, now?”
Draco took a moment before answering. He put the spear back down. “Come on, then.”
Tris was the first one to crawl in. She was small enough that it was easy for her to manoeuvre. Jeanine, however, cursed as she made her way in.
“Jeanine, the food.”
Jeanine dumped the bag unceremoniously near Tris. Then she turned her back on them both and lay down to sleep.
“Sorry about her,” Tris said apologetically. “She can’t stand the outdoorsy part of the Arena. Here.” She handed him a leaf-wrapped package. “Some fish. It’s already cooked.”
Draco accepted it gratefully.
“I’m going to grab some sleep as well. Wake me if you need to rest, okay?”
————
Eric growled in frustration. He kicked at his fireless pile of sticks, eliminating a small part of his anger. No fire. Again. Were they planning on freezing them all to death? If they weren’t, they did a wonderful job of failing.
He paced in his makeshift camp, which didn’t say much. A useless fire pit, and a spot of ground to lie on.
He decided then that he wouldn’t go to sleep. He would go out and track down the other Tributes. Perhaps one of them had a fire he could claim for his own.
————
Tears rolled down Jacks’ cheeks as he wrapped himself in his hole-filled jacket. His fishing that day went horribly. Whenever a fish swam into his trap and he lifted it out of the water the fish escaped right back into the water.
Then when he finally caught one, he couldn’t get a fire started. That meant either eating the fish raw or looking for something else. He couldn’t get himself to throw away his fish, so he opted to try it. Every bite he had to fight the urge to throw it back up. By some small miracle he kept the fish inside his stomach.
A sob forced its way from his throat. He wiped away his tears, even as more kept coming. He wanted to go home. Despite the bad condition in which he’d lived for seventeen years, nothing was worse than the Arena. He would give anything to be back in the Seam. He buried his face in his knees. He wanted to go home.
————
Henley shot upright. She heard a beeping. That meant a parachute. She got to her feet and searched the sky for her gift. She found it, stuck in a tree branch, two feet above her head. She groaned.
“My luck,” she breathed.
She jumped at the container and managed to snatch it out of the tree. She unscrewed the top and looked inside. A cream. A medical cream. Her hand went to her throat, where the cut Christina gave her was. She dabbed her fingers in the ointment and rubbed it over her sliced skin. She treated all her minor cuts the same way, before she recapped the cream and put it in her pocket. It might come in handy later on.