...She knew they were here; she didn't even bother to look up, but Cato's presence was too close to deny. Clove almost flinched when he spoke. "You just gonna pretend not to notice me?" Cato said in a low voice.
Clove stopped rotating the groosling over the fire, but didn't turn around. She hesitated in her words. "I was just trying to be polite," she answered, trying to keep her voice from wavering.
"Really?" Cato replied. He walked around to face her. He looked exactly as Clove pictured: powerful, cruel, and pissed-off. His huge muscular arms were folded across his broad-shouldered chest, his piercingly cold grey-blue eyes cut into Clove's own brown-green ones, to the point where it hurt and she blinked to look away, and his hard face was twisted into a frown with his lips set in a thin line. Cato was just as much as a man to her as her father, before she left. Both Cato and Clove's father had the same power about them. He looked down at her menacingly, daring her not to answer his next question. "And where the hell you been?"
Clove looked up, remembering it was better to face Cato than her father, and answered with a shrug, "Around."
Cato, of course, said nothing and waited.
"I got us food though," Clove added quickly.
Cato, of course, said nothing and waited.
The shouts of the other Careers were closer; they were just across the Cornucopia field. "So… are we all still seven of us, or less now?" Clove asked in a small voice.
"You'd know if you were there," Cato answered abruptly. "So, where were you?"
"I had… things to do—"
"Like what?"
"I had to find… food!" Clove said, trying to build her confidence to stand up to him. She rotated the bird again nervously. "I knew you all were only hunting for tributes and not hunting for food, so I went to go get some, and—"
"Well, you've been disappearing too much for my taste," Cato interrupted sharply. He looked away from her and walked to the edge of the lake, the water lapping at his boots. "If you're going to be in this alliance, I suggest you act like you are. Otherwise, you're not any use to us."
"No more than you. You just walk around giving the orders."
Cato turned around.
The others came closer. Clove could hear their laughter. "At least when I leave, I'm doing my job without an attitu—"
"Attitude reflects leadership in this alliance," Cato broke out violently, making Clove jump and nearly drop the bird. "And discipline is a thing you've lacked lately—"
"At least I'm doing my job!" Clove stood now, leaving the groosling to fend for itself. "Someone needs to feed us! We've got to be fed somehow if you want this alliance to last the week, the night!"
"Well you could tell us when you go on your little scavenger hunts," Cato said, sitting away from her.
Clove said no more. She didn't know what happened between her and Cato. She used to always cheer him up and calm him down when they were younger. He used to do the same for her and make her laugh and… love her, she thought. They used to be friends, great friends. Maybe they still could, if it weren't for the Games, Clove thought. Actually, a lot would be easier between them if it weren't for the Games.
The Careers filed in, some of them covered in blood. "Hey, what's all the yelling about?" asked a skinny boy with brown hair holding a spear. This was Marvel from District One. He never truly got mad at anyone, and he always had a smile on his face. He punched Cato playfully on the shoulder a few times before setting his spear and backpack down. He went to kneel at the lake and wash his face, or maybe just to cool down.
Then, in walked Glimmer, or as Clove called her, Glitter, to irritate her. Glimmer was never nice to Clove. Her blonde hair was lighter than Cato's, she had green eyes, and was tall and beautiful, like those charming, pretty girls you see only in magazines that the Capitolists read, but she only ever smiled when she was hanging from Cato's arm. Cato never gave her reason or inclination to think it was acceptable to do so, but neither did he seem too annoyed by her actions or company. He mainly ignored her, and only spoke to her when she spoke to him first... sometimes. "Oh, look who decided to show up," she said, not missing a chance to throw an insult in Clove's face.
"Oh, sit your sorry ass down, Glitter—" Clove meant to return.
"And she brought food! Yes! I'm starving, thanks," Marvel said, all in the same breath as he approached Clove.
Peeta came in silently and sat in his usual quiet area closest to the water. His ash blond hair and blue eyes were kinder than Cato's but Clove hated him nonetheless; after all, he wanted Katniss, her Katniss. She thought about that—her Katniss, hmm…
"I bet she burned it through," said Glimmer, who sat next to Cato and giggled. "The whole underside is black, look at it! It's on fire!" Oh, yeah! Shit it is burning! Clove sat back down to attend the bird.
"Oh, shut it," said Marvel as Clove blew at the flames that leapt at their meal. It didn't escape her notice that the District Four tributes did not return; Clove said nothing about this. She looked at the groosling and continued to rotate it over the fire. Clove missed the sweet, quiet girl that was Nym, the girl from District Four. She could talk to her about anything, and she knew she could keep a secret, even about her and Katniss. She once took a black eye from Cato for making an excuse for one of Clove's disappearances to check on Katniss. Now she was gone, and Clove grieved her death silently without tears as she took the groosling away from the fire to cut it up. "You okay?" Marvel asked. Clove looked up into his unsmiling, concerned face.
"Yeah," Clove said. She looked over at Cato who was too busy being distracted by Glimmer, although Cato still wore a frown, and Peeta was looking across the lake. She took a knife out of her jacket and began to cut at the bird. "It's just that… Nym's gone," she whispered.
"Yeah," Marvel replied. "Bet that kid's alone out there, crying her eyes out."
The knife slipped away from the slit Clove tried to make. What? Clove looked up again. "Wait… Nym's not dead?"
"Oh, no, Nym is alive," Marvel responded. "She's injured, but alive. She's still back there."
"Where? Why?"
"She's mourning Bey," he explained. "She was hit in the leg during the fight, but it was her bawling over Bey that made Cato decide she was too weak to move on."
Clove immediately wished she hadn't said anything. Abandonment was worse than death. If Nym had died, at least she would not have died alone. But no, Nym was left to die alone, and it ached Clove that she couldn't go out there and console her. Maybe if Bey, her partner, was alive, she'd still be here for Clove to talk to. She could always talk to Marvel, but it wouldn't be the same; she was already so close to Nym, and Marvel would hit the ceiling if he found out about her and Katniss. Oh Katniss, thought Clove. If you find Nym out there, spare her. She's the only other ally we have…
