Marvel hid the grimace from his face as Cato yet againwhined about his missing pet. It didn't matter that he was muttering the complaints to himself – in the quiet of the forest, it was loud enough for all of them to hear. Well, all of them except the girl from four, whom they'd sent back to guard the camp while they continued the search for Cato's pet. Marvel hoped they found other tributes, as well. The sooner this was over with the better.
This was not turning out to be the Games Marvel had longed for victory in. He was cold, lonely, annoyed, and already had a headache the size of his alliance.
The pair from four were just barely better than pathetic. Maybe it was just an angle, but it wasn't an angle that would gain sponsors. Nothing about the pair stood out. They were just – average.
Glimmer, at least, he knew was trying to work the sponsors. She was trying to prey on their love of drama and game-play, turning each task into a scene and each scene into a showcase for her assets.
But her voice grated on his nerves, and she was too good of an actress to let hang around long. Glimmer wouldn't think twice about sliding a sword in his gut; they held no loyalty to each other, despite being from the same district.
Clove confused him. She seemed to support Cato in his wants, but she would yell at him too. She was something of a brute, keeping to herself and looking for the next kill.
The one that really aggravated him, though, was Cato. Cato, who had immediately adopted the role of their cocky leader. Cato, who had managed to demean Marvel in front of his allies and all of Panem. Damnit, his mother probably saw that humiliating take down.
And damn Cato, who had the balls to attempt and succeed at doing what no other tribute had dared to do in 50 years.
"Gonna tie him to the stupid tent when I find his stubborn ass," Cato muttered. "Maybe I can find a stake and a leash. He needs a leash."
Really, he hadn't even known the boy long enough to know if he was stubborn or not. If anything Peeta seemed to be more of a frightened yet clever little wimp. Which probably made him smarter than Cato – which was pathetic. The pet was a twelve.
They were getting closer to the smoke that had started climbing in the sky, close enough that Cato had stopped worrying (for the moment) and Marvel had stopped glaring at the world and started scanning the forest for traps. The girls had long since stopped chattering, having run out of conversation topics.
"Spread out," Cato whispered, crouching a bit and holding his sword in the ready position.
Marvel tightened his grip on his spear for a moment, a brief frown crossing his forehead, before nodding and slipping off into the trees. Glimmer and Clove similarly moved away, though a bit more noisily. They were still quieter than Cato had expected from his fellow tributes so early in the Games. Right now, they were only seeking those from lower districts, who probably wouldn't notice if a stampede of horses came through the forest.
Though, from what Cato had heard, lower districts didn't even have horses.
The target, he knew, was in front of him and slightly to the left, but he was keeping an eye out for traps anyways. This early in the Games, it was probably someone stupid who was just trying to get warm, but there was always the chance that there was an ambush waiting, or that the smoke was just a distraction.
He was almost disappointed when no one came at him from behind, and he was able to walk freely into the small circle of light created by a small campfire. The girl – he guessed she was from five or six, though he hadn't paid much attention – had been there long enough to lay down and fall asleep next to the dying embers. Clove and Glimmer walked into view from the opposite side of the fire, and, a few moments later, Duke did as well. Marvel was behind him, looking amused. "I guess someone really was that stupid," he said, not bothering to soften his voice.
The girl slept through it, not even twitching. "What was really stupid was lying out in the open when she's such a heavy sleeper," Cato tagged on.
"Oh – oh! Can I kill her?" Glimmer asked, bouncing slightly on her toes. She looked giddy, and very eager.
Clove scoffed at her, and turned to leave.
"Where are you going?" Glimmer asked.
"If it takes five of us to kill that thing, then we have no shot at winning," Clove answered. "This is useless. I'm going back to camp."
No one stopped her, though Glimmer was still pouting. "What a spoilsport," she whined. "Though – does that mean I can kill her?"
At some level, the conversation must have been disturbing the sleeping tribute's rest. She was peering out at the group through eyes still half-lidded with sleep, and not yet at the stage where she could process the danger she was in. Cato waved his hand. "Go ahead then," he said.
Glimmer landed a solid kick to the tribute's back. "Wakey-wakey!" she called out with a grin. "Let's see those pretty eyes of yours."
The tribute scrambled, rolling just shy of scorching herself in the fire. "P-please," she whispered, trembling.
"Such a cutie," Glimmer smiled, pulling out the dagger she'd strapped to her thigh. "You know, hun, that presents a problem for me. Do you know why?"
Slowly, the girl shook her head. Her eyes were fixed on the dagger, and she seemed to have forgotten the three other tributes in the clearing.
Glimmer tossed the dagger up in the air a few times, catching it by the blade. "I'm supposed to be the only cutie around here," she said, just before tossing the dagger and landing it with deadly accuracy in the tributes throat.
"Yay!" Glimmer cheered, raising her hands and bouncing again.
The girl's hands rose to the dagger, and Glimmer frowned as the other tribute started choking on her own blood, attempting to breathe around the blade in her neck. A few moments later, she collapsed. The cannon sounded, signaling her death.
"My aim must have been off," Glimmer pouted, striking yet another pose. "What a boring way to die."
"Are we finished?" Cato asked. "There's still more tributes to find."
"Oh don't worry so much," Glimmer said, waving away his concern. "I'm sure your boy-toy is out there and perfectly fine. You've already claimed him, so he just has to worry about staying alive. Well, unless you die, then it could get messy." She seemed almost thoughtful about that, tilting her head to the side and pursing her lips. "Then again, it could get messy anyways, if you're planning on sleeping with him. Of course, there is the fact that there aren't any beds to sleep on, and I'm sure this sun is just horrid on my complexion. I'm going to miss all my beauty sleep, too."
"Don't worry," Marvel said with a smile. "You'll get plenty of beauty sleep when you're dead."
"I thought the expression was 'I'll sleep when you're dead'?" Glimmer asked, seeming to be honestly confused.
"That too," Marvel answered.
"Let's go," Cato said again. "The sooner we start moving, the sooner we can all get some sleep."
Peeta waited in the tree's embrace, hearing the Careers talking and joking and shivering with more than the cold. Cato sounded beyond angry, and Peeta could only hope that they would pass by without noticing him – that a few days in the arena would help them to forget he was a 'pet.' He wasn't going to survive long, he knew that much, but he certainly didn't think hanging out with the Careers was going to make his life any longer. At least, not anymore.
Marvel had seen him. While he wasn't entirely sure why the Career had kept quiet about where he was, Peeta was grateful for the favor.
He had no plans on paying it back, though. The look in Marvel's eyes hadn't been friendly.
Peeta huddled down further and tried to keep his eyes open. He could hear the Careers moving away, hear the hovercraft moving in to take the body, and the adrenaline was leaving him. His heart was slowing down from the pace of a frightened rabbit, and he wondered just how long he expected to make it in these woods.
As long as his food supplies lasted, he guessed. He had no idea what else was edible, and he doubted he'd be able to find and kill any animals. He'd have to stick close to the camp – at least within a day's walk of it – just so he could go back and steal supplies.
He swallowed hard as he realized he could very well get caught retrieving those supplies.
Peeta let his head thump against the tree trunk as he looked up at the false sky. 'Okay, Haymitch,' he mouthed, not daring to let a sound escape. 'What do I do now?'
