A/N: I literally spent all day on the ending of this chapter. Probably wrote it five different ways. Gah. Anyway, long authors note at the bottom full of goodies!
"When we are unhurried and wise we perceive that only great and
worthy things, have any permanent and absolute value.
That petty fears and petty pleasures are but the shadow of reality" - Henry David Thoreau
Chapter 27 - Sweet Irony
Two things I know for certain. One: this is a real, natural cave, not one made by Toph. The smell is different. While Toph's tunnels smell of earth and nature, this smells clammy and salty, almost sulfuric. And two: I can't see anything. Not even my own hand waving in front of my face. I can't tell the difference when I'm blinking. Without fire or a source of light, I'm completely blind. A sharp pain rips through me as I think of Toph. I refuse to believe she is gone. She has to be the toughest, bravest tribute in these Games. Now that I'm just as blind, I can't help but be in awe in how she did it.
No, I think, correcting myself. That's not quite right. She said she feels the vibrations of everything around her in order to see, didn't she? I think it must be an Earthbender thing because I'm trying, but I can't feel anything until I'm literally touching it. Or smacking into it. The cave is huge, wide enough that I can't even feel my way around. Every once in a while my foot catches on a jagged bit of rock on the ground and I trip, or the passage narrows and I bang my shoulders against the walls. But then it opens back up, and once again I have to grope the air and darkness. I force myself to slow down. What good am I if I knock myself out?
The walls shake with every roar in the distance, but it's dimming now, the deeper I move into the cave. If I let myself think about it too much, I'd admit I'm worried about Zuko, but I can't turn back now. I've never seen a dragon in my life. I have no idea how to even approach fighting one. All I know is that the sound of its roar indicates an enormous creature that also happens to breathe violent shades of fire. That kind of fire has to be fought with fire, or a heck of a lot of fire from me, which I don't have. Zuko has the upper hand here. I share Sokka's blood—maybe not as good as him, but I know how to navigate my way around. I can find a way out of here. That's what I need to worry about.
My eyes finally start to adjust to the darkness, but only a little, enough that I can see a few inches in front of my face. I keep my hands out stretched, moving in all directions, hoping if a rock sticks out wide enough in the cavern that I don't smack right into it. Every few seconds I reach down and pat my satchel and the canteen Zuko gave me, as though they might disappear in the darkness. The only sound I can hear now is the echoing of my footsteps against the rocky ground, mingled with my labored breathing. Every once I hear a scuttling sort of sound, like something is crawling on the walls or across the ground, but I can't see anything to be sure. It might be my imagination.
I leave you alone, you leave me alone, I think, and blow out a deep breath. It's so cold in here that I can now barely see it.
My hands drop to adjust my satchel, but I keep moving forward—and walk right into a wall. With a muffled yelp, I jump back. That hurt a little bit. I reach out, feeling the wall. I walk a little ways to the left and right, running my hand over the jagged surface. It's all rock. I've reached a dead end.
Panic surges through me. This can't be the end! There has to be a way out of here. Don't caves usually have a back entrance? Or do they only have the one? Frantically I move my hands back over the wall, this time sliding them up and down—that's when I notice something.
The wall is slanting downward.
Keeping my hands on the rock, I get to my knees and feel an opening gap, between the floor and the slanted ceiling. I lay my face on the ground and try to peer through it—it's complete blackness. I stick my hand inside and wave it around, feeling nothing but air. With a sinking feeling, I realize this is my way out. I have to get on my stomach and crawl through the crevice.
I pause here a moment, still bent down, wondering if this is a good idea or not. What if I get stuck? The crevice is wide enough for me to fit, but what if it narrows? This is the only way forward, but I can't see where I'm going, or what's waiting on the other side. Suddenly the idea of being stuck in a cave until I die of starvation or hypothermia sounds worse than facing a dragon. At least then I'll probably die quickly.
What would Sokka want me to do?
The ground starts to rumble, just a little, and then it starts to pick up. I shuffle to my feet, flattening myself against the wall. If the ceiling is going to cave in, there isn't much I can do. I look around wildly, searching the darkness, and that's when I see it. A small ball of light, off in the direction I have just come, advancing toward me. Quickly.
"Zuko?" I call out.
"Go!" he shouts at me. With the fire lit in his palm, I'm able to see the outline of the cave as he rushes toward me. It's so vast that I can't even see the ceiling or the walls on either side. The wall that blocks our path seems to stretch to infinite lengths.
I marvel at the fact that the dragon hasn't roasted Zuko for dinner only a moment. "There's nowhere to run," I say, once he skids to a stop before crashing into the blocking wall. "Unless—" I grab his wrist and pull his hand to the bottom, showing him the small opening "—you want to go through there."
The rumbling gets louder, a thundering roar shaking the walls. A chill creeps up my spine. Did the dragon follow him inside the cave? Or worse, is this the dragon's home?
Zuko looks at me with wild gold eyes, his mouth tight with strain. His messy dark hair is wet with sweat. Cuts bleed from his face, scratches along his neck. His left sleeve is completely ripped off, three deep gashes ripping apart the fleshy skin. The wounded arm hangs limply at his side, blood dripping all the way down to his fingertips.
"I'm fine," he says, catching the look on my face.
"That's not fine. You're not fine." I may not be an expert healer but I know a serious injury when I see one. "We need to wrap it up. You can't—"
"There's no time for that!" he snarls, but his words are mangled by another deafening roar. Pieces of what must be the ceiling crash on my shoulders—the sound of breaking rock shattering in the distance. The prince grabs my wrist and pulls me down, practically shoving me through the crevice.
I crawl on my stomach, using my elbows and forearms to inch me forward. Zuko shoots bursts of fire out in front of me to light the way, but all I can see is a never ending passageway. I have to tilt my head a little to the side so it doesn't bang against the ceiling. There's enough room for our bodies but not much more than that. If it gets any smaller, we won't be able to push through.
Don't panic, I force myself to think. You're not going to get stuck. Just keeping going forward.
"Hurry!" Zuko yells, hitting me in the heels to move faster, but he doesn't need to tell me that. The sound of the ground trembling, the collapsing rock in the distance, the roars, all closing in is enough to get me moving faster. The ground is serrated and sharp, digging into my skin. Every movement hurts but all I can think about is how terrible it will be if I'm crushed between the rock. I'll gladly take cuts and scrapes over that.
The sound of exploding rock echoes in my ears so loudly that I actually jump and hit my head. I nearly scream, thinking the ceiling has collapsed, but then—
"Stop," the prince commands suddenly, sounding gentle and hushed despite the intensity in his voice. He grabs my ankle for emphasis and I freeze.
The fire goes out and we're plunged in darkness. It's eerily silent, like the calm just before a storm. And then I hear slow, thundering steps echo in my ears. Each step shakes the ground.
Plunk. Plunk. Plunk.
Terrified, I cover my mouth to keep from making a sound. The steps are mingled with raspy, snarling breathing, almost a cruel purring sort of sound. I close my eyes, completely frozen in fear. The dragon did exactly what I had feared: it followed the prince inside the cave. Whether because this is their home or because Zuko makes a tasty snack, I don't know and it doesn't matter. What matters is that it's now in the cavern we were just standing in. There's no way it can bend down low enough to see us, but it can probably smell our scent and blood. Vaguely I wonder how large the beast is. From what I saw, the cave is clearly vast enough to permit a dragon.
I keep very still, hardly breathing.
The dragon shrieks a terrible, piercing sound. It isn't a roar, more like a frustrated cry. I cover my ears at the bone chilling sound. Something hard hits the ground, the sound so loud and rumbling I almost scream; everything around me quakes, bits of debris fall on me. If the beast knows we're down here and blasts away the rock with its fire, we'll be crushed.
"Move!" Zuko shouts, and shoves me forward as the dragon cries out again. "Go, go!"
I crawl faster, pushing past the pain that shoots up my forearms. I can hear the dragon pacing behind us, giving more piercing cries. The sound is familiar, like I've heard it before, but I know that can't be right since I've never encountered a dragon before.
My hand finally breaks through an opening and I pull myself out of the crevice. Zuko is right behind me, and while I think we're safe for a moment, he grabs my wrist and pulls me after him. He lights a fire in his hand so we're not plagued by darkness. This side of the cave is narrower, the walls closing in as we slide, dodge and duck our way through the passageways.
"Why can't we slow down?" I ask, panting.
"It was calling for scouts," he says.
Shocked, I pause, but he yanks me forward. "Scouts?" I echo. "What are you talking about?"
"All creatures answer to the dragons," he says, in a tone that suggests I should somehow know this. "They're even more ancient than the phoenix. I saw fire scarabs in the cave and they're small enough to be sent after us. Trust me when I say they're worse than the dragon."
I think back to when I heard something crawling across the rocks. So it wasn't my imagination, it's an insect or bug of some kind. Worse than a dragon? Doubtful, but I'll take Zuko's word for it.
The ground starts to slope down so suddenly that we both go down, sliding against the bumpy surface until we crash at the bottom. I land on my back, hard, and lay there for a moment, dazed. A bright light beams from the corner of my eye and I get up, looking over at the prince. He's rubbing his head, holding out a ball of fire with his other hand.
"You okay?" I ask.
"Get up," he orders. "We have to move."
I'm already up, Your Highness, I want to say, but I'm just not in the mood. Everything aches and throbs. Cuts sting all over my arms and legs, on my neck and face. I have half a mind to sit down and wait for the dragon or fire scarabs. I'm just so tired.
"I said get up," Zuko says—I didn't realize I sat back down—and pulls me to my feet.
I glare at the prince, angry at him suddenly, and lean against a wall, determined to stay standing even if it kills me. Anything to not hear that barking, princely voice of his ordering me around.
"There," Zuko says, pointing toward the ceiling with a fistful of glowing fire. "Our way out."
We have to be at least thirty feet below but I still spot the glittering stars through an opening crack in the ceiling. Moonlight shines down through the cavern. It looks so close yet so far.
"We have to climb out," I say with a sigh. The idea sounds awful but it's our only option. The walls are jagged enough to provide decent gripping, as long as we don't lose our balance or strength.
I look back at the prince, and my eyes drop to his arm. It's bleeding and charred so badly I can barely see his pale skin through the blood. He can say he's fine all he wants but that arm is no good.
I already know the answer, but I double check my satchel anyway. Of course, no bandages. I have to improvise. I rip and bite my way through my sleeves, tearing them off, and then I move to the prince.
"Let me wrap that," I say, and when he jerks away from me, I yank him by the wrist. "Stop being so stubborn and let me help you."
"You're one to call me stubborn."
"How are you going to climb?" I ask, ignoring him. I continue wrapping his arm, not bothering to look up. "Can you use this arm at all?"
"I'll be fine," he says, and pointedly disregards my frown. "We just can't wait around with this cave full of monsters."
"And here I was thinking that the worst monster in this arena was your sister," I muse. "Who knew about dragons and fire scarabs and badgermoles?"
Zuko isn't impressed with my joke and instead moves toward one of the walls, feeling the rock. We're in an almost hollow tower, sort of like when we were trapped in all that water and had to blast our way out, except now there are ledges and grooves. Not ideal but durable. Rope would be nice, but that would be just too easy, wouldn't it?
We start climbing. I have to badger the prince to go first. He'll be moving slower than me, and I can't have him falling behind. If anything comes after us while we climb, I need to be the one to defend us.
Oh, how the tables turn sometimes.
My foot misses a groove and I slip. Quickly my hand shoots out to steady myself; Zuko's head whips down to look at me.
"I'm alright," I say quickly. Mentally I take note the benefits of grip strength—my fingers are killing me. "Just keep going."
We're about three quarters of the way up when I hear it. At first I think its rain, but then I recognize it as that same scuttling sound I heard earlier.
"Go!" I shout at the prince, and he doesn't need telling twice. His foot slips and I catch it, placing it back into a groove before he topples down. The scuttling gets louder and louder, closing in, the sound so creepy I feel like I'm already covered in bugs, itchy all over.
The prince slips again, that injured arm giving out, and this time he starts to fall backwards. He's smart enough to push himself off the wall so he doesn't knock me down, but I reach out and snatch his hand as he falls; his body jolts in the air and crashes against the wall. Zuko hisses in pain at the impact. The sheer weight of him almost makes me lose my grip, but I manage to hang on.
"Climb past me," I say, and haul him up with every bit of strength I have. He barely uses his left arm, relying mostly on his right. He grits and hisses with every movement. I keep a hand pressed to his back, his legs, as he climbs past me, trying to give him some of the little strength I have left.
Something crawls up my leg and I cry out, trying to bat it away. It continues crawling up my leg, my stomach, my arm. It bites through the fabric on my back and digs into my skin at the nape of my neck. A searing, ripping pain momentarily blinds me. I scream and pull out the water from my canteen, bending it in the form of a whip. I lash it around my ankles, knocking the scarabs onto the ground below. I lash out again and again until I can't feel them around me anymore. They don't seem to like water.
I pull the water back into my canteen and start climbing, my eyes watering at the pain at the nape of my neck.
Zuko is quite a bit above me now—I have to move quickly. I get a few feet before more scarabs creep up the walls; I look down at kick at them. They're black and shiny, like buttons, small enough to fit in my palm. They hiss and spit at me, making irritating, critter sounds that just makes my skin crawl. My fingers stretch high and grope for a ridge, reaching, trying to get away but I'm so overwhelmed by the terrible scuttling sound of the scarabs closing in on me.
My neck feels like it's on fire.
I can hardly see through my tears. My fingers, weak from climbing, slip and I almost fall back, but an iron grasp encloses around my wrist and suddenly I'm hauled out the small opening of the cavern. I hit the ground, my knees smacking it hard enough to make my eyes water, but I'm on my feet in no time. Vaguely I'm aware that we're standing on a huge pile of rocks, high in the air, but I can't stand still. I'm screaming, my fingers digging just below the back of my neck, trying to remove the scarab that has dug its way into my skin. It hurts and burns so bad I'm hysterical.
"What? What is it?" Zuko asks, panicking.
"Get it out! Get it out!"
Zuko turns me around to face him; I fight him, clawing at the back of my neck, and he forces my hands away. He rips the back of my tunic and I dip my head down so he can see. Warm fingers brush my skin. I feel him pause and make the mistake of glancing up at him. The look on his face tells me how bad it is.
"This is going to hurt," he says, and his face jerks. "Hold on to me."
I grip the collar of his tunic with both hands and bury my head to his chest. Zuko knots a hand into my hair at the back of my head, keeping hold of me so I won't move. Then without warning, he presses his other hand to the bare skin on the nape of my neck, a hand balled in fire. Over and over, he burns me.
The pain is immediate and excruciating. I scream through broken sobs. It's so terribly awful I try to rip myself away but his hold is too strong. My skin finally breaks and I actually feel the scarab pop out, leaving nothing but a raw, burning sensation. The bug hits the ground, tries to scuttle away, and I slam my foot on it. Black juices gush from it's body. My legs give out very suddenly and I crumble forward; the prince catches me and we both go down on sharp rocks.
"I'm sorry," he says into my hair, brushing it off my neck. "I'm sorry."
His fingers are wet, sticky with blood, and suddenly the burning at my neck is washed away by the memory of his mangled arm. I think of the dragon, of how if he hadn't distracted it, his arm wouldn't be mangled and nearly useless. I think of Aang, who died too quickly, too young, and too violently. I think of Sokka, who did everything he could to keep me alive.
And they all suffered. Because of me.
"No," I say, in a clouded, cracking sort of voice. "I'm the one who is sorry. It's all my fault."
"Water," the prince says suddenly, and shifts me off his chest into a sitting position. "It will soothe your burn."
I wipe my eyes. "I can't heal."
"It doesn't matter." He pulls off my canteen and reaches for my hand. Gently, he turns it over and forms a cup with my fingers. "Just keep control of the water and I'll press it against your neck. It won't heal it but it'll help the pain until we get some salve."
I don't know the last time he's seen salve grow on trees but I'm in too much pain to argue. I keep the water in my hand, focusing on the push and pull sensation. Zuko heats the water a little with his bending, and then he guides my hand behind my neck and presses it against the burning spot. At first I stiffen, hissing out through gritted teeth, but the pain slowly starts to fade. He's right: it doesn't heal the burn, but it takes away some of the stinging.
I relax a little, closing my eyes and keeping my head bowed between my legs. Zuko keeps hold of my wrist, moving my hand in a circular motion against the burnt skin. I'm thankful for his guidance because I'm pretty sure my hand is dead weight and limp in his grip.
"Will this help your arm?" I ask.
Zuko removes my hand. He dabs a wadded piece of cloth into the water and places it over the burn. It stings, but not nearly as much as it did. It's more like an irritating, uncomfortable sort of pain.
"No," he says. "Yours is a burn—mine was a scratch."
A scratch. I almost laugh. What an understatement. A scratch from a dragon's claws, Your Highness.
"It might help," I offer. "I don't want you getting an infection. Water will at least wash away some of the germs."
"Quit worrying about me and worry about yourself." For some reason he sounds furious. "Don't…" he pauses, taking a sharp, agitated breath. "How can you even think of helping me when I just burned you?"
I'm so shocked by what he says that I bat his hand away and turn to face him. "It's not even like that. You…you saved me. If anything, I should be thanking you."
Zuko's eyes harden and he looks away. "Don't thank me. I should have climbed second. I should have cut it out with my sword."
Um, definitely not.
"Zuko—"
"I've probably scarred you," the prince cuts in, his voice sounding distant and flat. "Permanently."
"What does it matter?" I bark out a bitter sort of laugh. "I'll probably be dead in a few days anyway. And in case you haven't noticed, my arms are covered with scars."
The prince is sitting propped against rock, his legs bent, arms resting on his knees. He looks down, wrapped in some sort of sudden torment I don't understand. He's rigid all over, tense with some kind of emotion. His head bows, dark hair covering his face. He looks as exhausted and strained as I feel.
"It's just a scar," I say softly. I brush the hair from his face back, revealing the scar of his own. It's hardly noticeable against the blood and dirt painted across his skin. My hand lingers at his temple.
His eyes flicker up to mine, almost reluctantly, pools of gold emotion.
"We wear our scars," I say, "but they don't have to wear us."
"It's not that simple," he says, and turns the scarred side of his face away.
I drop my hand. "How is it not?"
"It just isn't." He sounds terribly frustrated. "It's…I didn't want to hurt you. I'm not…"
The prince stops short, his body tense with aggravation. Words are there—I can see it on his face—he just doesn't know how to say them. The emotion, though, is easier for me to read.
"You feel guilty," I say, leaving no room for disagreement. Seeing him now, this guilt ridden shadow of the prince I remember seeing for the first time at the plaza, I realize he doesn't fully understand how guilt and forgiveness works. It makes me wonder what other omissions he carries on his shoulders.
"And it's okay if you do," I add softly. "Just know that it's also okay to forgive yourself. If it makes you feel any better, I would have burned you too, if that's what it took to save you. I had to grovel and lose all my pride for the phoenix tears, you know."
His mouth twitches, almost into a smile. He leans his head back against the rocks and closes his eyes. He's so still all the sudden that I actually drop my gaze to his chest to make sure he's still breathing. His left arm, the injured one, sits propped up in his right one.
I shift and lean a shoulder into Zuko's chest—not wanting to put any pressure on my burn—and take his injured arm into my own, cradling it like it's something precious. He's reluctant at first, tense with strain, but once I tug his arm closer to me, he softens a little. The guilt he feels over the burn—I know the feeling. I feel it now, cradled in my arm.
I gaze upward. A cloudless night, the stars shine brightly, the moon casting a silver glow over arena. I could stare at that sky for the rest of my life and never get tired of it. Stories tell the beauty of the sun but the daylight does not have stars.
"Do you think the dragon will find us up here?" I say. "Or has it gone away?"
We're higher than I've ever been in the arena, higher than the trees. The cave is more of a small mountain, really, and we just happened to come out the top. We're both too exhausted and pained to try to scale down it. We wouldn't make it more than twenty feet. More worries for tomorrow, but I don't want them to ruin tonight. Tonight I want to sleep under the stars and pretend I have my whole life ahead of me without a care in the world.
"I'll take watch," Zuko says to me. He presses something cool against my burn—the cloth, I suspect. "You're safe to sleep."
"But you can't fight with one arm," I protest.
"Have you always worried more about others than yourself or is that a new thing?"
I'd like to take that as a compliment but it sounds more like an insult with the way he says it.
"I don't know," I say. "I've…never really thought about it."
"Well, it's a terrible strategy for the Games, just so you know."
"That terrible strategy saved your life a time or two," I argue. "Just so you know."
"I do know," he says, and his fingers brush against the back of my neck. Not on the burn, but just above it, sliding my hair over my shoulder. The cloth touches my burnt skin, but it isn't enough to cool the heat that spreads through my body.
I hold on to his arm, while he keeps the cloth pressed to my burn, the two of us a tangled, bloody mess full of aches, cuts and bruises. Everything about me feels broken, like I've lost pieces of the puzzle that makes me who I am: Saying goodbye to my dad, losing Sokka, losing Aang, leaving my home. And yet I'm still here. The pieces might be broken and chipped, but I haven't shattered. The only thing keeping me from falling apart entirely, I realize with some irony and surprise, is the prince of the Capital who tore me to pieces to begin with.
What a pair we make.
I close my eyes, fatigue threatening to pull me under. I wonder idly if I say the words out loud, because Zuko says something against my hair, but I don't catch it. I'm already asleep.
A/N: Yes, I went on Youtube and listened to dragon sounds to help me write them. /nerd Anyway, funny story. I found this cave when I went camping, got to the end, and realized the only way to keep going was to crawl through the opening at the bottom. So I crawled and sure enough, found a way out by climbing out. Yep, I felt like a real Indiana Jones that day. True story inspired for this chapter. Go me.
Anyway, now that we have reached 600 reviews, you get a bonus! Here is a snippet from Insurgent, taken out of context, so let your mind go crazy:
"I know what you did. I know your secret and I know how to help. You cannot wish to save [BLANK] alone and you have little time." - Insurgent
In other interesting news, I'm mapping out another Zutara, loosely inspired by the Disney movie Mulan. If you've seen that, how can you NOT think of Zutara? lol A female disguised as a boy, but falls in love with her commanding officer and saves the world? Come on. It's just asking to be written as a Zutara. Anyway, just like with this story, it will not be a carbon copy of the original. I'm taking the basic principle—Katara joining the Fire Nation under Zuko's command—and rolling with it. It will be in the same sort of manner as Love Thy Enemy—an awesome Zutara you should all read—with an army/military based kind of story. :D I'm excited about that. It will be called Dark Side of the Moon. Title inspired by the song "I'll Make a Man Out of You." ;)
Review Responses:
frostypinkapple: "I really want to know what happened to Toph." - First of all, what inspired your penname? lol I see the funniest pennames on here! Anyway, the truth of Toph is revealed in the sequel, whether she's really dead or alive, you will find out for sure in Insurgent. ;)
Like A Dove: "I feel for Zuko. He's probably so torn and confused and he's feeling lots of different things and doesn't know how to put those feelings into words." - This is why I chose to write in Katara's point of view and not his, haha. He's hard to write from another perspective; I can't imagine being in his head all the time.
me38242: "wow i didn't think anyone read reviews except for the author." - I loved your drabbles! It made me feel like a real author, haha. That makes me so pleased to know I've inspired someone enough to write fanfiction about my fanfiction. You're awesome! There's scene I've written that's similar to one of yours, actually! Great minds must think alike. ;)
ZukoXKatara: "will Zuko ever kiss Katara?" - Yes ;)
poprocx: "we are both big fans of ALTA and THG, and im telling him all about your fanfic over facebook because he is stationed in afghanistan right now we love it." - Well thank you so much! You're husband is a brave and honorable man. I've been researching military terms/ranks for my upcoming Zutara fic. Perhaps I can ask you if I have any questions? :) Also as for updating, I try to update every two weeks or so.
RewritingLife: "I was wondering that since Toph finished the tunnels, couldn't zuko or katara( maybe even both), can't they manage to escape using toph's tunnels?" - This is brought up in an upcoming chapter. :D
Gryffygirl: "I never got to see the bonus scene." - They are in chapter 14 and 19 of this story. ;) Also, a Youtube trailer was made for another bonus. The link is in my profile.
BetterDeadThanAlone: "in my opinion Katara killed Sokka by default. I blame his death on her." - You make a good point and this is something Katara struggles with in upcoming chapters. When Katara volunteers, she isn't thinking about the chance Sokka has to live, she's thinking about the chances of him dying. Which in her eyes, seem higher. Katara has this trait of having to do something, rather than doing nothing. "I will never turn my back on those who need me!" That kind of thing. I don't think she could have stood watching him fight and die, while she was safe at home. If the two had made it to the end together, I'm not sure what would happen. Katara would do everything she could to stop him from killing himself, obviously. It would have been a bad situation.
Black Firelight: "i just wanted to share with you how depressing it is to see the scroll bar show me that there is still plenty of chapter to go...only to scroll down and it's really review replies. XD it's like a crushing low blow! XD" - Haha I know what you mean! I try to write about 3,500-4,500 words per chapter of actual story. This one was 4,300 I think. ;)
Nightlight753: "will a character resembling Gale in this fanfic make an appearance?" - This might sound weird because I actually ship Katniss and Gale. But I consider Sokka the "Gale" of this story, in the sense of being a piece of home, someone familiar, someone the heroine loves and could never replace. Gale knows Katniss inside and out, like Sokka knows Katara.
