[Author's Note: sorry for such a long delay! I completely ran out of muse. But I watched the Hunger Games movie earlier this evening, and it got me in the mood to continue writing this.]
"Haymitch, there's nothing here."
"Yeah, I can see that. Thanks for pointing out the obvious."
"This was your idea, remember."
"Shut up."
Maysilee reached for the blowgun strapped across her back like she intended to beat him with it, so Haymitch quickly made his apologies. "I just mean that there still might be something here," he said. "We have to keep looking."
Maysilee shook her head. "I'm really sorry," she said, "But there aren't that many kids left in the Arena, you know."
Haymitch turned to her, shocked, then realized what she was talking about. He fell into a fighter's crouch, reaching for his knives. He should have seen this coming- Maysilee was smart, she'd want to eliminate the competition, it was no wonder she had followed him all this way.
"I didn't mean it like that," snapped the girl. "I'm not out to kill you, I promise." To prove it, she took her hands away from her weapon. "I just don't want it to come down to you and me, you know?"
"I guess," replied Haymitch, trying to sound nonchalant.
"So I think it's high time that I left," Maysilee added, sounding notably despondent.
"Yeah, I think so, too," said Haymitch, hearing the gloom in his own voice and wondering when he'd gotten so soft.
"I'd say 'see you on the other side'," added Maysilee, "But I really hope that only one of us dies today."
Haymitch smiled slightly, and muttered, "May the odds be ever in your favor."
Maysilee grinned, clapped him on the shoulder, then turned and walked away.