Ziva slowly shifted in the bush. She aimed the bow, and let the arrow fly.
The animal let out a pained cry. She walked to the medium buck, and slowly pulled out her arrow, and wiped the tip and shaft on her jacket.
The buck still thrashed in pain. She silently pulled a small knife out of her small pack. Ziva said a quick prayer and plunged it into the heart of the animal.
He moved no more.
Ziva smiled. "Deer stew tonight." she murmured. She tossed a rope around its feet, tying them together. Ziva was stronger than most girls, so she was easily able to pull the buck back to the fence. A small face smiled through the chain link at her.
"Tali! What are you doing out here?" Ziva asked. Tali smiled. "I wanted to help, Zivaleh!" She cried. Ziva smiled. For a twelve year old, she was very enthusiastic. Then, it hit her:
She was twelve.
She was eligible for Reaping.
Reaping was today.
The three thoughts struck Ziva heavily. She grabbed her arm. "Come, we must get back home, Tali!"
"What about your kill, Ziva?" She asked, looking back at the large, meaty carcass. Ziva pushed it under a thorn bush. "It should be safe for a few hours. Come, we must be ready for the Reaping." She choked. Ziva protected her sister in as many ways possible, but this was the one thing she couldn't protect her from.
Tony juggled the three apples, making the girl across the market giggle. He winked and flashed her a wide grin. She giggled again.
"Put those apples back, boy, before I make you pay for them!" A voice suddenly shouted. Tony turned around to face a large, red-faced man.
Tony looked at them. His father would be angry if he had to pay for three of the large, glorious apples.
"Alright, alright." He put them down and slowly backed away.
"Hey, Tony." Tony turned to see Timmy, one of his closest friends.
"Hi, Timmy! What's wrong?" he asked, seeing the teenager's sad expression. Tim shoved his hands into his pockets.
"Reaping's today." He said with a faraway gaze.
"I know."
"I signed up for the Tesserae. I have a better chance of being picked." He said sadly. "I can't leave my family. When Father died of pneumonia, all my mom had was me and Sarah. I can't leave them- they need me."
Tony put his arm around his shoulder, feeling slightly ashamed. His father was the main merchant in District 11, so he had never really known how hard it was for others. "I promise, Tim, if you must go, I will see to it that Sarah and your mom get what they need." He promised, gripping the boy's hand.
"Thanks, Tony." The boy stood a little taller, and he smiled slightly.
"Alright, I'll see you in the square." Tony said, turning down his street.
Ziva stepped out of the tub, drying off. Mother had laid out a beautiful green dress for her. It was edged with shiny white lace, and was far too luxurious for us to afford. Father must've bought it before he ran off.
Ziva's father abandoned her, her mother and Tali when she was ten, Tali, five. He just up and left. Ziva became a huntress, training herself. Even though they were the agriculture district, and it was against many laws to hunt in the outlying forests and fields around District 11. Everything they had was usually shipped off to Panem as soon as it was harvested. The poverty-stricken people barely had enough for themselves. The David family lived off eating and trading Ziva's hunts, and from the Tesserae. She had signed up for the Tesserae as soon as she was eligible. Ziva knew that her family needed the limited source, especially when good meat was scarce.
Ziva stood in the square, shaking as the escort walked up to the stage. "Everyone, Miss Trary Cliff!" Our mayor introduced the escort. "Good evening, ladies and gentlemen of District 11. Tonight, we gather to select our two tributes to go forth and compete in the annual Hunger Games. Ladies first."
Ziva clenched her fist. In the next few moments, someone's fate will be decided. You could have heard a leaf drop in the silence.
Trary stuck her hand into the first glass bowl. She pulled out a small slip of paper.
You could have heard a leaf drop in the silence.
Trary looked up.
"Tali David!"
The whole world seemed to stop. Ziva couldn't breathe, couldn't move. "No. No, Tali." she choked. She couldn't! She wasn't even signed up for the Tesserae! She was one in thousands!
Ziva turned to where the twelve year olds stood. There stood her younger sister. Her jaw was clenched, and her fists were balls. Tears silently poured down her faec. She almost seemed to march up to the stage.
"TALI!" Ziva screamed. She turned around. Ziva had done everything she could to protect her: how could she have not seen this coming?
"No, Ziva. I must go." Tali whispered to Ziva. Suddenly, Ziva threw her behind her. "I will go!" she shouted.
The whole crowd went quiet.
"What is that?" Trary asked Ziva.
"I volunteer to be the tribute in her place." Ziva said slowly. She couldn't believe herself. Everything in her screamed "NO!"
"Well, this is an interesting turn of events. What is your name, girl?" She asked Ziva.
"Ziva. Ziva David."
"Ziva David, our first tribute!" Trary cried, beckoning for me to come onstage.
"No! No, Ziva! Don't!" Tali cried, clutching at Ziva's dress.
"Talileh, I must do this. You have some many things to live for. I love you." Ziva said, embracing her sister.
"ZIVA!" Tali screamed. She was pulled back by a young boy with bright brown eyes.
"No, sweet heart. Let her go. She is doing this for you." He said softly to her.
"No! She can't! She'll die! And it'll be all my fault!" Tali sobbed. The boy held her back, and pulled her into an embrace. "Shh, it's okay." He whispered. She cried into his jacket.
"I'm Timmy." He said.
"Tali." She said, muffled through his jacket. She looked up, her eyes wet with tears.
"And, next, our boy tribute." Trary reached inside the other glass bowl. She pulled out a slip of paper. "Anthony DiNozzo!"
Ziva let out an involuntary growl. She knew this boy. His father, Anthony DiNozzo Senior, was a wealthy merchant. If you handed him a knife, the boy would probably just twirl it in his hands like a toy.
He had never known what it was like to hold the bow in your shaking hands, knowing that it may decide whether your family starved or ate.
He had never known the horrible, endless pain of hunger when food was scarce or unavailable.
He had never known anything.
Ziva was angry. If she had to depend on a home tribute, would it actually have to be this idiot?
Tony, waving, came up to the stage. He smiled widely, as if he were happy, even joyful that he was chosen to compete in this bloodbath. His bright, emerald eyes, however, showed one emotion, an emotion Ziva had seen in the eyes of animals as they saw the arrow fly to their neck, the feeling she saw the moment before she plunged the knife into the heart of the buck.
Fear.