just to improve your reading experience: taura has a southern accent, bc district 10 is in modern-day Texas : )

this is also a crazy long chapter, at 1848 words. so sorry abt that (but there is a reason!)

I am woken early by an enthusiastic Apollo. He shakes my shoulder roughly, a smile wide on his face and a spear held loosely by his side. 

"C'mon c'mon," he says, letters jumbling over each other, or maybe that's just my brain. 

I mumble an okay and force myself up with a good bit of difficulty. I stretch, and every bone in my body pops, making Orion wince from where he stands off to the side, also armed. 

"What are we doing?" I ask, my words accompanied by a yawn. Looking around I find the sun has just risen, marking the beginning of our fourth day in the Games. 

"Hunting," Orion says, and while his tone is much less animated than Apollo's, his expression doesn't suggest demurral in any way. 

Vulcan hits the butt of his sword against the ground twice, and Apollo laughs.

We set off into the forest soon enough, after I've chosen the lightest sword we have and everyone has eaten something. Our water stores are plentiful yet running out fast, meaning that we either have to rely completely on Apollo's plan for converting the ocean water, or we need to find some sort of freshwater river, and soon. 

Obviously, I choose the second option, toting around two empty jugs on the leather sash I've attached my sword too. 

Really, I feel ridiculous--a little girl playing make-believe with her friends, pretending that she is an adventurer, off to save the princess from the castle. She'll whip out her sword and fight off the evil ogres with a twirl and a flick, and she will live happily ever after, as heroes in stories often do. 

That's part of the reason I like my grandmother's stories--they don't all share the same ending, and when they do, at least it's an interesting one. Greek myths tend to end in tragedy, which I find much more captivating than a Prince and Princess's happily ever after.

It's ironic, really, that my own life will end in just as much tragedy as those stories I hold so dear.

Apollo stops suddenly, and Vulcan almost runs into him, settling for a rough bump to the shoulder instead. The blonde-haired boy stares up at the sky as if it could grant all his wishes, infatuated. "Look," he says, and I look. 

A slow trail of smoke rises up, up, up, unending and coming from a spot just over there. 

We run, feet pattering against moss and soil, leaping over fallen branches with the grace only a career could maintain. I am not quite as elegant, but thankfully I am in shape, and so I manage to keep up, lagging behind just a bit. 

And so it is that I do not notice Orion's sword against this girl's throat until it is too late to do anything. 

Though, really, would I want to do anything? Whoever she is, this frightened girl is my enemy. My competition. I didn't come here to make friends, the Mei in my head says, and I shiver despite the warm temperature. 

It is a dark thought, and just the fact that it made its way into my mind makes me want to throw up. The idea that only yesterday a girl died right on top of me only heightens the feeling. 

"Please," the girl begs, a sob stuck in her throat, her voice a whimper. I close my eyes in a prolonged blink, because she is young, so young. Probably not twelve, but then again, maybe she is twelve. The look in her eyes doesn't suggest anything older. 

Her gaze lands on me then, brown eyes wide with fear. "Don't kill me," she says, stuttering just slightly, but we both know that Orion has plenty of reason and capability to. 

Vulcan has seemingly lost all vestiges of humanity, pity and empathy long wiped from the shriveled-up raisin that is his brain. He leans in front of the girl, one long finger reaching out, twirling her short hair with a menacing smile.

I almost gasp, remembering who she is: Lua, from District Three. She's the youngest this year, but that is not why she stuck out--no, it was her hair, haphazardly cut in a way that doesn't suggest proficiency, no matter who cut it. 

Albeit a sad fact, it makes sense. Who would enter a lot of tesserae, as Lua must've, but a girl with no access to anyone as proficient in cutting hair as a barber?

A tear drips down Lua's cheek, but her gaze doesn't waver from Vulcan's, suddenly confident despite the blade pressing against her neck and the heavily muscled arm behind it. 

Vulcan leans back, spooked. "Do it already," he orders, and his voice is nothing if not harsh. 

I don't move, every bone in my is body frozen solid--not by fear, but by anticipation. I will my eyes to close, but they refuse. 

There is a moment, of hesitation but also of suspense, and then a whoosh and a thunk and Orion falls to the ground, clutching his shoulder, a grunt of pain escaping out his mouth. 

Vulcan's head spins, sword suddenly unsheathed, pointed to the newcomer: a girl, red hair pulled up into a loose bun, axe held loosely at her side. She smiles teasingly, her expression akin to Vulcan's recent taunting. 

Lua jumps up from where she has been released by Orion, running to the girl's side, notably standing just a bit behind her older ally. 

I would like to say we're all still for a moment, but we're not. Vulcan moves quick, conditioned from years of training, and goes for the redhead's throat. He just misses, sword driving into the dirt beside her. 

"So you're the careers, ay?" she asks, and her voice is deeper than I expected, but not quite masculine. "Not very impressive, I gotta say."

She hands her axe to Lua, pulling a small knife from her belt. With further inspection, I find that she has a whole stock of similar knives hanging from the leather piece, scantily clad in a mismatched sort of cloak, pieced together from scraps of fabric that looks like it was taken from the tribute's outfits.

"Careful what you say, Nine," Vulcan says, his voice almost a growl. The girl spins her blade between four fingers, smile never leaving her freckled face. 

"Pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm Taura, from Ten. You're Vulcan, ain'tcha?" She frowns. "You look different from your tribute photos. Thought you'd be hotter."

Vulcan doesn't respond, choosing instead to strike again, swiping his sword through the air in the exact spot Taura's neck would have been if she hadn't moved last minute, just barely avoiding a grisly death.

Taura shakes her head, taking a step backwards, although her demeanor doesn't suggest submission nor fear. 

"Really not living up to my expectations," says Taura. 

"Not like you're gorgeous either," Vulcan bites back, grinding his teeth. 

Taura just smiles. "Owning up to your many faults, huh?"

"Never," says Vulcan quickly, lunging again, missing. 

Orion stands, stemming the flow of blood in his shoulder with a large palm. "Cut it out," he says, and Taura looks to him, head tilted down, eyelashes flickering. 

"Aww, you scared he'll hurt me? Don't worry, One over here wouldn't hurt a fly. Or should I say can't?"

"Fuck you," Vulcan mutters, and however much I dislike him, I agree that it's the right sentiment for the occasion. 

"Get off his back, little girl," says Orion, raising his sword to hover in front of Taura's face. Her jaw hardens and her shoulders tense, but her green-eyed gaze does not leave the scarred boy's. 

Until they do, flickering surprisingly to my own. 

"Daphne, right?" she asks. I nod, my words getting lost on their way to my mouth. 

She moves confidently, close enough to touch me but not making the move, probably in fear of Orion. "I've watched your interviews. Dad was a victor too, huh?"

She is different from Caesar Flickerman, her pronunciation of the word 'victor' much less idolizing, even going in the opposite direction, towards resentment. 

I manage to speak. "He is."

I could mention that my sister played the Games, too, but I'd really prefer not to talk about her right now; not to this terrified redheaded girl, not with all of the career's eyes trained solely on me--excluding Orion, of course, who still hasn't looked away from Taura. 

Taura scoffs loudly, spittle flying from her mouth, all decorum seemingly abandoned with her previous life. "Is, huh? Don't lie. He ain't nothing anymore--isn't that how it works? No one survives the Games. Thought that was common knowledge, guess it ain't so common with you spoiled careers."

I suck in a breath, half-surprised and half-petrified, eyes skipping from Taura's knives to her face.

"He survived the Games," I say. It's not much of an answer, but it is what the Capitol will want to hear, and if there's anything I should remember as a tribute, it is that the Capitol can kill everyone you love in a matter of minutes. And however much I dislike or even hate my father, I wouldn't throw his life away for some meaningless comment.

She laughs loudly. "Naw he didn't, Water Girl. No, he did not."

Orion's sword moves again, this time reaching all the way to Taura, the razor-sharp blade pressing against her throat. She raises her hand in mock submission, but her face is covered by a wide smile. 

"Cut the shit or I'll cut your throat," he says, and in my periphery, Terra smiles slightly. She has been silent this entire time, presumably in an attempt to stay out of trouble and away from anyone's weapons. 

Taura doesn't move, her gaze trained on a point just above my head, the menacing smile fixed on her face. She doesn't talk either, a quiet break from her heavy accent. 

Vulcan turns and swears loudly, his hand once again migrating to the hilt of his sword, unsurprisingly. 

I twist my head and then my torso, finding a long trail of smoke floating upwards above the trees, coming from the clearing, and the cornucopia. 

There is a rustling of plants, and when I look back, Taura is running, pulling the littler girl by the hand, a wide smile still painted onto her face. She is laughing loudly, and then she descends into a valley and her voice tapers out. 

"They burned it," Apollo says, breaking his silence for the first time in a while. "They burned it all."

heyy guys! if you managed to make it through this chapter, absolutely congratulations, bc it was a long one. but this is (so far) one of my favorite chapters I've written honestly ever, even if it is almost two thousand words. 

an update on my previous announcement: the tribute page is almost 6,000 words now, and I still need to add some more background details for like half the characters : )

love youuu!  <3