Spring

"Prologue"

~I'm not quite done yet

(Out to play at night)

We're not quite done yet

(Out to play at night)~

Ainsley Maris Sims

I'm the first one awake. Ethan and Pierre are still on watch but I don't head over to them right away. I doubt Pierre will want to rest anyway, the moment a single one of us is up he'll be itching to out hunting again. A few more minutes to let the sun creep over the mountains might help team morale for when that call is made.

The first day was a long one.

The bloodbath was a flash in the pan, over as soon as it started. With all the chaos and adrenaline it was all this instantaneous, hazy blip that doesn't even feel real looking back at it now. My memories feel implanted, like I'm watching someone else go through the motions of yesterday. It still doesn't feel like it was my hands that drove the Katana into Thom's chest.

The rest of the day was the exact opposite. It dragged on, monotony bleeding into monotony so that it feels like I've been in this arena forever. A part of me wonders if it's time spreading apart, stretching on as death creeps closer and closer. It's the type of thought I'd never have needed to worry about popping into my brain before. But yesterday brought more than just a hazy bloodbath and a long, dull evening.

District One is already getting on my nerves. Not that they weren't before. But it's worse in here. So much worse. Watching them sit and laugh and play stupid games like this is just summer camp is more infuriating now than it was before. It's like not a single thing has changed for them since the gong rang. Like the kids they killed at the bloodbath were nothing, like this whole thing doesn't matter one bit. I don't know how I want them to feel. Scared, maybe. Or somber or at least serious. But it's the same old Ariya, Pierre, and May.

Maybe hunting will do us all some good. Yesterday's hunt was a wash. Most of the outliers ran into the forest. The only one we saw go down the hill to the lake was the kid from Eight that's at the bottom of everybody's list of people to worry about. Kyler, Azai, and the twelve-year-old from Twelve were the only ones to head up the mountain, which makes that worth checking out, but it's hard to figure out where to start. Once we start that climb, we won't be able to head back to make camp for the night at the cornucopia. We'll be all in, hunting after just three scrappy loners with a day headstart on us.

So that leaves the forests. Sparse enough that there's nowhere to hide, wide but seemingly not too deep so that making back for the cornucopia for the night is always an option. Six tributes, including the only two alliances in the arena in the form of the duos from Seven and Eleven. It shouldn't be much of an argument.

But that assumes far too much competence for our merry little band. We wasted a good hour of the most efficient time of the Games to hunt in the aftermath of the bloodbath yesterday, stuck arguing over how, if at all, to split up. Pierre wanted us to go as thin as possible to hunt kills in all directions. Arno suggested we stay as a single large group, which Pierre responded to by telling him to shut up because "the guy who got zero kills at a bloodbath full of toddlers doesn't get an opinion."

Eventually, we settled on the logical choice of splitting into two groups, but by then the outliers all had gotten enough time to run that we were sniffing cold trails. We gave up before long and set up camp with another ten tributes still wandering the arena outside of our pack. Whatever we do this morning, I don't think I'll find myself caring enough to argue. Just so long as I don't have to spend a single moment out in the woods hunting with May or Pierre, I'll go along with it. Ariya was surprisingly tolerable while hunting yesterday, without May or Pierre around to rile her up. It wasn't very sociable, but us two and Everly were effective. If we had left an hour earlier, we probably would have racked up a kill or two even.

One of the sleeping bags beside me shifts and I take that as my queue to get up, not trying to be particularly quiet as I shuffle out of my bag and up to my feet. Beside me, May groans and rolls over, mumbling something about "five more minutes" while she wraps her arms around her head.

I roll my eyes and then suppress the yawn that fights its way out of me, stifling it as I take a few meandering steps toward the hill and look down at the lake. I peer back at camp, where everybody not named May is slowly stirring and staggering to their feet. Ethan and Pierre take notice and walk back to camp, Ethan shuffling over and yawning as he drops to the ground in a heap while Pierre stabs his spear into the ground and looks around eagerly.

I lock eyes with him and nod my head toward the lake and he flashes a thumbs up, then says something to Everly as she crawls out of her bag and to her feet, her hair a tangled mess halfway covering her face and the top half of her t-shirt drenched in sweat. I have no such problems, thankfully. The only sweat that hit me during the night was a cold one from when the temperature suddenly dropped to what must have been thirty below for a minute at what I'm guessing must have been midnight.

I think of mentioning that strange phenomenon to Everly as she approaches me to join my excursion to the lake, but decide against it when she stumbles past me without so much as a nod or a glance. I can give her a moment to wake up. Pierre and Ethan should have more to report on that too, considering they had a whole night to think about it with no distractions.

That thought is almost enough to get me to laugh.

I snag my Katana then jog to catch up to Everly. She doesn't even bring a weapon, rubbing her eyes as she shuffles in a zombie-like state down the hill. I quicken my pace to place myself a few steps ahead of her and keep my eyes on her, ready to catch her if she falls face forward into the dirt. The last thing I need right now is my one competent ally to sleepwalk down the hill and roll into the lake.

"You want to ask," she mumbles tiredly. "So ask."

I shrug, trying to play off my curiosity as indifference. Truthfully, I don't really care all that much, but saying that I'm only staring at her so that I can catch her if she passes out somehow seems worse than the alternative.

"A rough night?" I ask casually.

"I've had worse." She sighs. "Just couldn't keep my eyes shut."

"Brain couldn't turn off?" I ask quietly. She looks over to me and I smile and shrug. "Me neither. Then the Gamemakers turned on the AC and I think my brain just froze and stopped moving. Or maybe I passed out from shock, either way it worked."

"I barely noticed," she says nonchalantly. "Used to it."

I nod my head. "Part of your training back in District Two? Sudden temperature changes to prepare you for the arena? That's smart."

Her eyes seem to drift even further into the distance and she shallowly nods her head in affirmation. "Yeah, something like that."

"Right, well, if you need some sleep tonight to catch up I can cover your night shift. Got plenty of sleep last night, wouldn't mind staying up to see if there's any sort of pattern to the arena with the temperature change. Tali Choice doesn't do normal arenas, there's gonna be something weird going on here and I'd like to get as far ahead of it as possible."

"I don't need your help," she mumbles back in return.

"I never said you did," I shoot back casually. "Just an offer."

She's quiet for a while, her expression making it impossible to tell whether she's deep in thought or not thinking a single thing at all. We near the bottom of the hill when she suddenly nods her head. "Thanks," she says, the words seeming to spill awkwardly from her mouth. "I'll take you up on that if you do something else for me."

I pause and look back at her. "What's that?"

She staggers forward and I suddenly reach out to catch her but she stops herself just short of going into a free fall down the hill, my hand resting awkwardly on her shoulders in an attempt to catch her. She cracks the faintest outline of a smile.

"Stop watching me like I'm a fall risk," she says. "I'm tired, not a senior citizen."

I crack a smile at that and give a short, breathless laugh as I step back away from her and bring my hands back down to my side. "Consider it a deal."

"Good," she says, yawning as she continues on down the hill. I follow after her and she hums thoughtfully as she finishes up with an onslaught of yawns, looking up at the sky. "Think any of our mentors have enough sponsors to splurge for a new t-shirt?"

I roll my eyes. "Maybe District One will lend you some of their fans, I'm sure they've got more cash than they know what to do with."

We reach the lake and our conversation dies as she drops to her knees and dunks her head into the water. But I swear that just before she does, I can see a smile crack onto her lips.

Arno Dupont

In the end, we split into three hunting teams. Nobody seemed eager to start up another argument over it after yesterday. When Pierre suggests the smaller groups, Everly and Ainsley don't exactly look happy, but his suggested groups win them over. Either that or they're just both too tired to argue. Maybe a little bit of both.

Everly and Ainsley make up the first duo, May and Pierre are the second, with Ariya and I as the final team. A sleepwalking Ethan doesn't seem too upset at drawing the short straw and having to stay behind to watch camp. I try to pretend I'm not at least a little hurt at the exasperated reaction Ariya gives at drawing me as a partner.

Each of us takes a different section of the forest to explore and we make plans to stay close enough to be within earshot of a shout. While we shouldn't run into anybody that gives any of our duos any trouble, it doesn't hurt to be sure.

Everly and Ainsley are punctual and head out as soon as the gameplan is drawn up, May and Pierre not far behind them as soon as they finish placing bets with Ariya on who gets the first kill. But once they head out, Ariya seems in no hurry to go out and ensure she wins her bet. I'm left waiting in the camp with a snoozing Ethan, sharpening my already plenty pointy spear while she goes for a quick bath in the lake.

When a good hour of time passes and she finally is ready to head out, she does so wordlessly, two bowie knives strapped to her belt and a waterskin in her hand as she saunters off to the treeline. I have to jog to catch up and I follow her out into the wilderness, awkwardly trailing a half-step back as she continues to trudge on, seemingly oblivious to my existence.

We continue that way for a good half hour before her pace (and the uneasy silence) begins to wear me down and I jog up to put myself in her path and begin slowly backpedaling. "A bit quieter than usual," I say to her, my voice a bit light.

"We've been walking a half-hour, you better not be asking for a break already," she says drolly.

"Well, ouch," I say, laughing. "First of all, not really walking, more like a good jog–" I trip over a root and narrowly catch myself against the trunk of the tree. "And this mountain air is pretty thin, I think," I pant.

She pauses for the first time to look back at me and shake her head in disappointment. "Why did it have to be me that gets stuck with you?"

"Again, ouch," I say, my laugh a bit weaker this time. "Thought I got paired with Ariya, not Everly. What's up? You're usually all jokes," I tease.

She doesn't smile, her expression icy cold as she takes a step toward me, her hand tracing the handles of her bowie knives. "Didn't you hear the cannon?" she asks, her voice devoid of emotion. " I'm not Ariya. Ariya is dead. I'm the horrifying mutt here to gut you and slit your throat and drag you to the water so you can join her at the bottom of the lake."

Things go dead silent. She keeps staring at me with unfeeling eyes, her fingers slowly grasping around the handle of her blades. I stumble back and reach for my spear and she suddenly bursts into laughter, causing me to trip over the root again and stumble to the ground.

She slaps her knees, her laughter sounding less human and more like a hyena as she points at me as if I were the most amusing thing in the world. "Oh god, you should've seen your face. You really thought that you were about to die. Too freaking funny."

"You're telling me," I pant, more out of embarrassment than fatigue as I throw my spear aside into the bushes from my tangled spot on the ground. "You made us awkwardly walk through these woods in total silence for an hour just so you could pretend to be a mutt?"

She shrugs and kneels over beside me, offering me a hand as she flashes a broad smile. "Quit whining and get up before you scare off every outlier within a mile."

A twig snaps. Ariya's hands quickly go back to her knives and I scamper back to my feet, both our eyes shooting to the shrubbery, where one of the boys from Eleven stands, my spear in his hands as he looks at us with a nonchalant expression.

"Don't worry 'bout it," the boy says. "We're not the ones who should be scared."

I take a step back but Ariya has no reservations, a grin as she steps forward, bowie knives making their way into her hands. "Big mistake, Eleven," she says in a voice that's somehow both cold and cheery. "What did Pierre tell you about touching our weapons?"

"Is that why you killed Alyssane?" he asks angrily, pacing back and forth from the dozen or so yards away he is from us, not seeming to pay any mind to Ariya slowly closing the gap. "Cyrus and Elias and Kiera? 'Cause they were such a big threat to you?"

Ariya laughs. "I don't know who the fuck you're even talking about."

The boy's eyebrows narrow and he tightens his grip on the spear. "Don't worry, we'll make sure you remember."

We.

My eyes widen and I spin around. Just in time to spot the other District Eleven boy, a few yards behind us, in a dead sprint, with a sharpened wooden stick in the form of a makeshift spear clutched in his arms.

As soon as he sees me he skids to a stop, bringing his momentum into a throw as he rears back his arm and tosses it at Ariya. I dive into her, my body crashing into hers and bringing us both to the ground in a heap. The stick grazes my bicep, cutting a deep gash into my skin that I do my best to ignore, quickly crawling back up to my feet as Ariya does the same.

She shoves me aside roughly and drops her knives. She swerves to the side, her body seeming to curve around the spear that the boy throws at her from the bushes. In a flash she plucks the spear from mid-air, stumbling into a roll from the momentum of the throw as she takes hold of it. She hops back to her feet and sweeps out the spear in a wide arc that I have to drop onto my ass to avoid. It sends the second District Eleven boy to the floor too, though, the tip narrowly avoiding his gut as he skids to a stop and stumbles back.

Not sparing me so much as a glance she tosses the spear to the side, my hands just barely reacting in time to snag it out of the air. I take hold of it with my non-dominant hand, my other arm still screaming in pain from the gash on my bicep. Ariya charges at the now weaponless boy from the shrubbery, so I turn to the other boy.

He hops up to his feet, pulling out a dagger as his eyes dodge between me and his district partner, who is sprinting away into the forest, Ariya hot on his heels. He steadies himself and finally makes up his mind, digging his heels into the dirt as he narrows his eyes at me and nervously begins twirling the knife in his hand.

I steady my spear, squeezing the end of it in between my shoulder and my chest as I slowly advance toward him, speartip held at chest level. He begins walking in careful circles, the two of us slowly inching closer and closer as he attempts to find an opening while I continue closing the gap.

Finally, he's close enough, and I lash out suddenly. The speartip flashes at his neck and he dodges to the side. He tries to take advantage of the opening and rush me, but I'm there in an instant, the barbed edges of the spearhead slicing against his stomach before he gets so much as a half-step.

He screams out in pain and rapidly backpedals away, clutching his side and dropping the knife to the floor. I take a few rapid shuffle-steps toward him and he scurries back, nearly tripping over a root as he does.

We lock eyes for a single moment, hatred burning in his eyes as he takes another hesitant step back. Then, his eyes switch to something behind me, his eyes widening in surprise as he shouts out. "Now, Ceeja!"

I spin around, my spear whipping through the air in a full arc. But there's nobody behind me. I'm turned back around to face him a moment later, but he's already racing in the opposite direction, his feet crashing through the dirt and bushes as he sprints away. I hoist the spear up in my arm for a moment and consider throwing it, but quickly decide against it. I can hardly fight with my left, much less throw.

"Shit," I pant, wincing in pain as I drop to a knee and look down at my bicep, a steady stream of blood trickling out of the deep, slicing cut. No cannons ring out, and my guess is confirmed a few minutes later when Ariya jogs up, hands on her hips as she gasps for air.

She looks down at me and shakes her head in exasperation. "Fucker's fast," she says breathlessly. "Fuck, man." She drops to the ground next to me, sprawling out on her back and dropping her knives onto the dirt.

"That was way too close," I say in between breaths.

"Way too close," she echoes.

We fall into silence for a long moment after that, both of us catching our breaths. Once I've gathered enough air in my lungs to speak again, I look over at her and nod my head. "That thing with the spear though? Did you catch that out of mid-air?"

She nods her head. "Yeah," she says breathlessly.

"That was cool as hell."

She nods again and strains to sit up, her voice still a mixture of breathless exhaustion and shocked disbelief. "Yeah, that shit was badass as fuck, wasn't it?"

"I'm sure Pierre will love hearing all about it," I offer.

She laughs at that, the exertion it causes being enough to send her back to lying down on the floor, her head facing the sky. "So which one of us is shouting for help?"

Everly Amata

"What the fuck do you mean they both got away?"

"Hey, chill out man, you saw them at training. They're like little hamsters, they're fast."

"That's what the fucking spear is for! Throw it at them! Or wait, no, I forgot, you aren't capable of actually killing anybody apparently."

"I'm not a lefty."

"What the fuck kind of lame-ass excuse is that?"

"A truthful one?"

"Look, I know we're all upset about the lack of kills. But I'd seriously just like to emphasize. That spear catch I did was badass as fuck."

"How the hell did they even get your spear anyway? Did you just decide to leave it lying in the bushes while you whipped your dick out to take a leak?"

"Ariya scared me, man. I dropped it for like five seconds."

"She scared you."

"I don't blame him for that. She is kind of scary."

". . . seriously, it honestly might be the coolest moment in Games history, and if one of you wins you're going to feel hella stupid when you see it during the recap and realize how badass I was."

I feel like bashing my head into a tree.

I already feel like I'm barely functioning today, and this over-extended argument is only serving to kill whatever few brain cells were still firing away in my brain this morning. I didn't catch a single moment of sleep and then when I finally am starting to feel myself waking up again thanks to a good, quiet walk in the woods, we hear Arno screaming out some sort of bird call.

Then we show up and find out that he and Ariya managed to not only get ambushed by two outliers and not manage to kill them, but Arno even managed to tear open his dominant arm's bicep in the process. Best case he's gonna be out for a day or two and weak for another few days longer. Worst case he won't be holding a weapon in his right arm for the rest of the arena.

And then Pierre arrived. While Ainsley was terse and frustrated and confused, Pierre went straight to rage. And that was before he heard the full story. If May wasn't standing between him and Arno right now, we might be down a District Four tribute by now.

"Alright, alright, alright," May says, pushing Pierre back. It works about as well as expected, her feet digging into the ground as he doesn't move an inch backward. Eventually, she gives up and just stands up tall, puffing up her chest and trying to meet her district partner at eye-level and settling for tilting her head all the way back to look up to him. "Is Arno stupid and useless? Obviously. Is Ariya crazy? Duh. But this isn't new knowledge. Nothing gained or lost here. But, we have got ourselves a juicy trail to follow. Look at it this way, now we just get to wrack up more kills for team District One. If we want one of us to shut Galavant up we're gonna have to beat his eight, so we gotta get going on that anyways."

Miraculously, that string of ramblings and half-hearted jokes manages to calm Pierre down and he takes a step back, lowering his voice as he turns to face her. "What juicy trail?"

She shrugs. "I don't know, I'm not a nerd. I don't know how to track a blood trail. Where's Ainsley and Everly?"

Ainsley bristles beside me. "Did you seriously not learn to–"

"If they were sprinting away from you two then I can track them, blood or no blood," I cut in, before another argument gets the chance to bloom and the ringing in my ears goes from a soft, high-pitched hum to a death-inducing migraine. "Just point me in the right direction."

"See?" May says, throwing her hands up in the air. "Teamwork! High five, Everly."

She saunters over to me and I lamely accept the high five. Pierre brightens up, any interest in Arno and Ariya lost as he stalks over to me and nods his head excitedly. "Alright, let's get started then. I want those two dead in time for the anthem tonight."

It takes another few minutes to get situated. Ainsley breaks out the first-aid kit and works on bandaging up Arno, while Ariya re-enacts her spear-dodge to an overly enthusiastic May. Pierre and I stay focused on the trail, Pierre hovering over me as I carefully examine the ground of the fight and examine the ground. There's more than enough markers for me to track either of the two, but I decide to follow the trail of the boy that Arno hit with his spear. The trampled grass and shrubs, footsteps in the dirt and mud, and snapped twigs are more than enough, but the blood drops are just an extra added bonus that helps me think as little as possible.

Just like that, we're on the trail, keeping a good pace as we mostly just follow the steady supply of blood-specked blades of grass that trail the ground. We follow the trail for a good hour making strong progress, but there's still no sign of either of the District Eleven boys. Pierre remains surprisingly patient, staying with me at the front of the line with his eyes glued on the treeline, hoping to catch the first glimpse of our targets.

May is also hanging with me at the front, mostly staying quiet but popping in with an occasional question every once in a while, quietly asking about tracking or navigation or how I can tell which direction they went just from a trampled patch of grass. She's oddly quiet, calm, and respectful about it, and so I answer each question as simply as I can. The logical part of me says that sharing that advice with a potential future enemy is a bad idea, but the vain feeling of pride that comes with being tangibly competent at something is enough to override that. Or maybe I'm just too tired to think properly.

Ainsley brings up the rear, seemingly not trusting Arno and Ariya back there to not get caught off-guard again. I can't say I blame her for the feeling. I make a mental note to myself to sleep with one eye-open if those two are ever on guard together for a night shift.

As if I'll be able to keep even one eye closed for a full night in this arena. The list of reasons I couldn't sleep last night would make up an essay if I were to list them all out, but that familiar paranoia was right up there at the top. If other cadets at the academy were willing to backstab and lie and play cutthroat just to earn the chance to volunteer, who's to say what the actual chosen volunteers will be willing to do now that we're in the arena, where there are no rules. No consequences. No reason to be anything but selfish.

Logic should tell me that's just paranoid thinking. That backstabbing rarely if ever happens in the Career pack, especially this early on in the arena. That this pack and the people that make it up especially aren't ever going to resort to that. That nobody is going to catch a sword to the back or a knife to the throat. But Ainsley is the logical one, not me.

Pierre suddenly perks up, lifting his spear and shield up and letting out a sharp whistle that instantly quiets everybody. The treeline is thicker here and so we don't have to crouch down or play it stealthy. All we do is squeeze in tighter, the six of us compacting into a tight formation as we keep moving forward.

It takes me a moment, but eventually my eyes adjust to the growing darkness and I catch a glimpse of what caught Pierre's attention. A quick jolt of adrenaline kicks through my system, shooting me with enough energy to shake off my fatigue and take hold of the handle of my sword, ready to draw it at a moment's notice.

The mansion is bigger than any I've ever seen before. Three stories tall and stretching out lengthwise so far that it looks closer to the training academy than it does to a house that somebody would live in. That's not the only reason it doesn't look exactly habitable, though. All the windows are swung wide open, the brick exterior crumbling, the paint chipped, the roof scattered with a few small holes. Vines grow over the walls, a handful of trees covering the outside of it and nearly camouflaging it entirely in the forest. A few branches even reach into the mansion through the windows.

The first floor is the only exception, all the windows boarded shut with nailed-on pieces of wood. We do a full circle and find nothing but a padlocked cellar that refuses to budge at Pierre's pulling and a single massive entrance at the front of the house, the sweeping wooden double doors flanked by stone griffins. The entire first floor is elevated off of the ground by a half-dozen feet, making the open windows on the second floor too high to leap out of without most likely receiving a broken leg for your troubles.

A speck of blood stains the stone floor in front of the front doors. Fresh mud tracks running across the welcome mat only confirm what that suggests. Pierre is the first one to vocalize it.

"They're inside," he says. He makes for the door and gives it a tug, but it doesn't budge so much as an inch.

"Stuck inside," I say before he gets any ideas that might result in further injury. "There might be another way in."

"The vines that are growing on the walls seem climbable," Arno says. "I could get up there, I just need a night to rest up my bicep."

Pierre surprises all of us by nodding in agreement. "About time you make yourself useful. We'll post double guards and keep a close watch on those windows, just in case they make a jump for it. First thing tomorrow morning we send Prince Charming up the walls and he lets us in."

May roars out a yawn.. "Whatever, I'm too tired to play hide and seek in there anyway." She plops down on the cement and rests her head against one of the stone griffins, scratching it on the neck as if it were a dog. "Let's just not stay here long. This place gives me the creeps."

Pierre laughs and slaps the other griffin on the back. "We kill these two kids tomorrow morning and you and Ariya can go run off to the mountains to hunt down the other nobodies."

Ainsley crouches down next to me as I find a spot on the grass just beside the front steps to lay down on. She glances uneasily at the District One trio and then back to me. "Once we kill District Eleven, there's only eight other outliers left."

"If we kill them," I say, yawning.

"Not exactly anywhere for them to go," she says.

I shrug and nestle my head into the grass, my eyes slipping closed without any conscious effort, renewed fatigue washing over me. "You know what they say about wild animals and cages."

"What do they say?" she asks drolly.

"I don't know," I murmur. "But it's probably not anything good."

A/N: Everly is sleepy, Pierre is angry, Ainsley is sus, May is quiet, Arno is silly, Ariya is Neo, and Ethan is just hanging out or smthing. See you all next time.