Chapter 47: Dead in the Water
Day 3
Venatrix woke to a pair of round, orange eyes inches from her nose. She barely had time to blink before they disappeared, accompanied by the sound of rapid scrabbling and quiet laughter. "I think he likes you, Vee," Mariposa said. Her hand reached behind her to stroke the cat now cowering behind her back, its eyes still wide in the dim morning light of the cramped tent.
With a shake of her head, Venatrix pushed away the vestiges of a dream she didn't remember and the pit in her stomach that told her it hadn't been a good one. A part of her couldn't help but be grateful she woke up at all. "What're you gonna do with it, d'you think?" She nodded to the cat.
Mariposa shrugged. "Thought he would've run off by now, honestly."
"Are you sure it's not a mutt?"
The One girl didn't respond immediately, stretching her arms above her head and twisting her back to pop the joints. She shrugged again. "You don't seem dangerous at all, do you Charcoal?" The cat shoved its head into her palm, simultaneously demanding chin scratches and proving her point, for the time being.
No matter; they all had far more pressing issues.
Swiftly, Venatrix redonned her leather vest, her belt, her still-damp boots. She picked up the sword she'd laid at her side while she slept; it grated at the blisters on her palm as she slid it into its sheath, the pain merely a mild annoyance in the grand scheme of things. Double-checking her token and the short knife in her belt, she stepped out into the sunlight, the shadows around her far too short for what should be early morning. Percy and Shannon still sat quietly at their posts; Venatrix clapped the former on the shoulder as she strode past him towards the remains of the fire where Patience crouched, in the process of rekindling it. "Don't bother, we don't need a fire."
The Four girl shot her a glare. She responded with the crack of flint against steel, and Venatrix's jaw tightened.
Whatever. They'd be splitting into hunting parties today anyways. Ignoring her obstinate ally, Venatrix sat next to Percy, making a quick meal of cold leftovers from yesterday's gifts and rations. By the time the rest of the pack fully woke, Venatrix had finished wrapping her blistered palms in a thin layer of gauze, doing the same with Percy's.
The subdued chatter that bounced between them quieted when Venatrix cleared her throat. "Pack up quickly when you're done eating," she said briskly. "We're going to split up today to cover more ground, now that we don't have any obvious targets. Grethel, Patience, Idris." The three of them looked up at their names, pausing their tasks of eating and touching up their face paint to listen. "You take this bank. Don't just stay close to the water— the others could be hiding anywhere. Viper and Shannon, you'll take the other bank; same thing. The rest of you will be with me on the boat. We'll be moving, so don't meet back here once—"
"Excuse me, did you say the other bank?"
"Yes, Viper. Uncharted territory; could be exciting." When he didn't look convinced, she raised a brow. "We do have a boat, you know."
"And how exactly would the other tributes get across the river?" he sneered, ever-patronizing. "You really think they'd fancy a swim?"
Venatrix leaned forward, elbows sinking into her crossed legs. "And why, exactly, would they give us a boat if they didn't want anyone to cross? If it wasn't important, somehow? I seem to recall the Eight boy launching himself from a cliff, and we haven't seen hide nor hair of him since. For all we know he could've swam across." Viper rolled his eyes, and Venatrix raised her hands in surrender. "Fine, stay with me on the ship, I don't care. Mariposa, you—"
"I'll go," Viper snapped, and Venatrix pressed her lips together in a terse smile.
"Excellent. With me, then."
With that, they had the camp packed in no more than fifteen minutes. Grethel and the Fours stayed behind while Venatrix and the others transferred the supplies to the storage compartments belowdecks, retrieving her fur cloak from within her leather pack to combat the chill coming off the water. She took point at the stern, twisting the crossbar of the starboard rudder to guide their trajectory. Only when they were halfway across did Venatrix realize it might've been smart to keep one of the Fours onboard to handle the intricacies of the boat. Oh well. We've been doing well enough so far. Rather than beach their vessel, Venatrix halted the ship a few meters off from shore, instructing the hunters to get out and swim.
"Really?" Viper deadpanned.
"You didn't have a problem with it yesterday," Venatrix countered. "Better take your shoes off, though." Her own were still slightly moist from yesterday's swim.
With a huff, Viper followed suit. Shannon hesitated before slipping out of his boots, and again at the edge of the rail. "What if there's something in the water?" he asked, eyes lingering on the churning depths.
"That's what your sword's for," Venatrix said wryly, clapping him roughly on the shoulder.
Apprehension still lingered on his face; nevertheless, the Three boy swung himself over the edge of the ship. He landed in the water with a shuddering gasp, struggling to keep his chin, shoes, and sword above the current until he realized he could indeed stand. A sudden eagerness— or perhaps the frigid water— seemed to push him towards the far shore.
Viper's frown was pensive as he watched his comrade swim across. "What is this, really?" He sent Venatrix a sour glare, shot through with fresh blue paint. "You want me to get rid of him or something?"
Behind him, Percy wordlessly rolled his eyes. "Please," Venatrix said. "If I wanted that, I would've sent you with Idris instead."
The One boy huffed indignantly, but launched himself over the edge all the same, boots and weapon held overhead to avoid the water now that he had no rush to attack.
Venatrix watched them from the stern, letting the boat drift in place until the pair finally pulled themselves ashore and disappeared into the treeline. Percy joined her at the back of the boat, his gaze lingering in their direction. "You really think they'll come back?"
The question was genuine, in typical Percy fashion.
"Who cares?" Mariposa said sharply. "Good riddance to them all, I say."
Venatrix shrugged as she began to redirect the ship towards the center of the fjord. "She's right. Who cares?" At Percy's questioning head-tilt, she gave him a half-smile. "If they don't, we've got the boat, we've got the supplies…" She ticked them off her fingers. "There's nothing at the Cornucopia, so all they've got is whatever's in their packs and whatever sponsor gifts they're likely to get. And they're separated by, what, half a kilometer of water?" She shrugged again. "Hard to gang up five-on-three like that."
Percy's eyes widened as she spoke, his expression slowly morphing into a grin that matched hers. "'Atta girl," he huffed appreciatively.
"Now, if they're smart, they'll come back," Venatrix continued, brushing away stray hairs tossed around her face by the light wind. "It's a win-win for us either way. For them… They get the chance to go hunting. If they find the outliers, good for them. If not? They can regroup with us to try another day. No harm done."
"You think they will?" Percy asked.
Venatrix folded her arms over the steering oar's crossbar and blew a raspberry. "If they get lucky, maybe. I wouldn't bet on it, though."
"So you did send Viper and Shannon on a wild goose chase," Mariposa said with the ghost of a smirk on her lips.
"Hey, not necessarily—"
"They're more likely to be on the other side of the bank though. The outliers." The One girl leaned against the mast now, gaze trailing across the riverbank in question. Her hands rested on the horizontal beam that hung about a meter off the deck, housing the sail; she fiddled with the bunched-up folds of fabric. Ever-insistent, the black-and-white cat snaked its way around her calves affectionately. "Viper was right there, though they've got a decent enough head start on us."
"That's what makes it fun," Venatrix clipped under her breath.
Percy threw a tentative glance her way, but she ignored it. "I guess we can assume Seven and the Tens are still allied," he said, and Venatrix hummed in agreement. "I'll bet the other two are on their own, then."
"They were allied before, during training," Mariposa pointed out.
Venatrix raised a wry brow. "And look how well that went."
"Bloodbath jitters get to everyone, I guess," Percy said, and they faded to silence save for the sloshing of the water against the hull and the creak of the web of ropes that kept the ship from falling apart.
Venatrix hummed in agreement after a minute. "Hey, Perce, wanna steer for a bit?"
With a puppy-like grin, he traded places with her. Venatrix stood, her boots thumping a steady rhythm against the deck as she paced the length of the ship. Tied up neatly beneath the lengthwise wooden beam, the white sail stretched almost as long as the ship itself; Venatrix ran a hand along the stiff fabric, aware of Mariposa watching her silently from the other side. She paused at the front of the boat, hand coming to rest naturally at the pommel of her sword, and peered around the carved serpent's head to the open water, the riverbanks.
Not a single tree or boulder looked out of place, no sign of ally or enemy prowling the beach. Venatrix couldn't help but admire the way the vessel cut smoothly through the water, albeit at the river's languid pace. A curve in the silvery path slowly crept nearer, though at this rate, she didn't expect to reach it until well after the sun hit its peak; the corresponding slope of tree-covered rock did its job blocking her view of their eventual destination. Just up ahead on the left-hand bank, a small waterfall trickled down an outcropping of rock. Its chorus echoed merrily through the valley, joining the sound of water lapping gently at the ship's hull.
Down this end of the fjord, the landscape at least looked traversable. Where a sheer, jagged drop had marked the edge of the arena that first day, here, the evergreen passes called to her, beckoning her to explore. Soon, she promised them.
The sidelines were not a place Venatrix could afford to occupy for long, no matter how advantageous the position. Yesterday proved that well enough.
The sun beat down from the sky, warming her cloaked shoulders as it reached its peak, but Venatrix didn't remove her furs. The breeze off the water offered a pleasant enough chill. And still, no flickers of movement on the banks caught her eye. From behind, Percy called her for lunch, and Venatrix abandoned her watch. The stillness didn't worry her, and unless Shannon had been right about there being something in the water, they were untouchable. Venatrix ate with that in mind— there was something comforting about being the least interesting thing in the arena.
For the moment, at least. No doubt the viewers at home were getting their fair glimpse of the scenery, both in the Capitol and back in Two. Her home.
They were rooting for her back there; Iago, Agate, maybe even Alystra and Coquina. Venatrix couldn't help but wonder what they were thinking, how they were judging her performance, as she often did when she watched the Games from home. Jabbering with her siblings that "I would've taken that kill, no hesitation," as she reclined on the plush living room couch, bowl of ice cream in hand. Both of her parents had warned her that nothing was as easy as it looked on the screen, and here she was… If she thought about it, she could practically hear Iago nagging at her for letting Viper take the opportunity with the Nine girl, though she knew there'd be more apprehension than humor in his tone.
But none of it would matter once she made it home.
Finishing off her meal, Venatrix stretched out her muscles, slack from the morning's idleness, but still weary from yesterday's events. And the day before, if she were being honest. Arms over head, she pulled at her elbow until it drew an exhale of relief from her lips, and she switched; count to five. Satisfied, Venatrix turned heel, aware of the cloak swishing around her ankles as she returned to her place at the back of the boat. One hand came again to rest at the starboard oar; the smooth wood beneath her fingers offered a slight reassurance.
Not a single cannon dared disturb her peace, and Venatrix sighed.
Even if her allies' hunt proved unsuccessful today, they still held the advantage as the dominant force in the arena. Venatrix wasn't averse to playing the long game; she could count her blessings that the 'Makers seemed content to grant them a quiet day, if only so those in the Capitol could place their bets. As lovely as it would be to get on the hovercraft headed back to Two in a couple days' time, Venatrix knew that wouldn't be the case. The Games were an investment; those on high would milk it for what it was worth.
Though, the longer the outliers evaded them, the sooner Venatrix would be forced to come to a decision, or let the Gamemakers and their mutts decide for her.
A shadow fell overhead and Venatrix looked up to find Percy leaning an elbow against the beam of the closed sail; it shifted slightly beneath his weight, and he jerked away from it. "So." He raised his brows, one hand tentatively patting the beam as if to apologize. "Think we should try to figure this thing out?"
The intricate mechanism brought a frown to Venatrix's face. The entire thing creaked within its nest of ropes as the current gently bounced the boat. She eyed the ones keeping the sail wrapped in place; a couple trailed from each end of the beam itself towards the stern. Even more stretched towards the top of the mast before touching down again to the deck, dancing through the various pulleys bolted down in places that were probably important.
Venatrix swallowed. "Um. I guess?" Very aware that this would be easier to mess up than do correctly, she stepped tentatively towards the contraption. "We should probably untie it, then."
The ropes that kept the sail in place didn't seem to have any other purpose in the system, as far as she could tell. Cautiously, she worked the nearest knot free as Percy waved Mariposa over to help. The fabric slipped gradually from its binds as they released it, and the three of them stepped back to look at their handiwork. One of the ropes she'd had noted earlier had dropped as well, connecting the corner of the sail to the ship while the other remained tethered to the beam— a means of shifting the sail once it was open, she guessed. It still hung awkwardly, though now, Venatrix could see glimpses of a dark yellow pattern in the sail.
Mariposa glanced between the Twos. "What now?"
"We lift it," Venatrix said confidently. "Somehow…" Uncertainty slowed her movement. She sent Percy a questioning look only to find her unsurety mirrored in his expression. Taking the end of the beam in her hands, Venatrix gave it an experimental push upwards; she grunted in surprise when her efforts went instead towards rotating the beam horizontally around the mast, quickly hindered by some unseen tether.
"I think we have to use the ropes," Mariposa said.
"Yeah, I was just testing it out," Venatrix said quickly. "It's, um. Very heavy."
"These ones, maybe?" Percy called. Venatrix turned around to find him pointing towards a complicated set of pulleys at the back of the boat; five or six ropes fed into it, their free ends coiled around pins that lined the edges of the ship. "We could each take a few, and then— ew, it's sticky." With a grimace, he dropped the rope he'd grabbed, holding up a hand to show off the black residue it left behind.
Venatrix glanced at her own bandaged palms, still covered in blisters underneath. Quickly, she dipped into her pack to snag a pair of leather gloves before joining the others at the pulleys. They'd grabbed their own as well, and Venatrix placed herself at the pair of ropes between Mariposa and Percy.
The tarred rope stuck to the leather as Venatrix picked up her ropes, bracing herself. "Okay, ready? Count of three; one—two—three—"
Together they pulled. Immediately the rope-burn reawakened the raw pain in her hands. Venatrix grimaced, leaning into the resistance that surged through her body. The strain bled through her clenched jaw, into the exhales of her peers; Percy let out a grunt as they heaved the rope through the pulleys. Muscles burned in her arms, her legs, though not as much as the searing sensation of blisters popping in her palms. Come on.
Despite their efforts, the beam merely swayed an inch or two above its original position.
Venatrix refused to let the pain overpower her. "Come on!" The words were barely audible through her gritted teeth; nevertheless, they pulled as if their lives depended on it. Just a little more—
A cry of effort spilled from Mariposa's lips; Venatrix felt it when a rope slipped from the One girl's grasp.
"Down!" Venatrix cried. She let go and the rope practically leapt from her grip, its sudden absence leaving her hands smarting. Slackened rigging clattered around the mast as the beam fell the short distance back to its origin; Venatrix recoiled, wide-eyed and tense. Ropes whined as it bounced in place, stretched taut. She held her breath, half-afraid they might snap. When they didn't, Venatrix exhaled a rattling sigh.
"Holy shit," Percy groaned.
"Yeah, we're not doing that again," Venatrix said definitively. "Not without the others to help."
Percy and Mariposa nodded wordlessly. Out of what must be a new habit, Venatrix glanced down at her tar-stained gloves. Her shaking fingers curled instinctively around her palms as feelings other than stinging pain gradually returned to them, though the suspicious wetness wasn't any more comforting.
Over and over again, the Academy had made the point of stressing how thorough the 'Makers were. Despite their failure here, she felt certain that with the whole pack, they'd be able to raise the sail; otherwise, there wouldn't be a sail.
Another thought bloomed in tandem— if it took the whole pack to raise the sail, then this boat wasn't meant for anyone else.
The 'Makers had put it in the arena for them.
Right now, the pack was exactly where the Capitol wanted them, and Venatrix felt a surge of confidence at the realization.
"What are you smiling about?" Percy asked with a bemused look on his face.
Venatrix shrugged. "We're in the right place." She didn't explain, instead fishing around in her pack for a new roll of gauze and a healing salve to spread on the wounds. Settling down on the nearest bench, she peeled the gloves from her hands. An unpleasant combination of blood and pus coated the old gauze beneath it, and Venatrix's nose wrinkled in pain and disgust as she dabbed at it. The others followed suit in silence, Percy's hands equally chewed up from yesterday's rowing, and now this. "I think you win," Venatrix said, glancing at his raw palms.
"Having more blisters is not winning," he grimaced.
"Sure it is."
Percy scoffed, focused more on dressing his wounds. Mariposa, on the other hand, seemed to shake hers off easily, hunched over one of the supply barrels to refill her water skein. She chugged it hungrily as Venatrix approached.
"Careful there, we haven't found any other drinking water yet," Venatrix said, thinking back to the brackish taste on her lips after yesterday's swim.
Mariposa shrugged blithely, downing the last few drops before she refilled it again. "Let's hope the others find some while they're out, then. Speaking of—" she raised the skein to her mouth for a final swig— "chances of Viper offing Shannon before they get back?"
"Oh come on now." Venatrix shook her head. "Slim to none."
"You told him not to, so he might do it out of spite," Percy pointed out, settling down on a bench near them. "They should be getting back any minute now, shouldn't they?"
"I guess." Venatrix shrugged. "And it's not like that would be a problem, really."
"Could give us an excuse to off Viper," Percy chuffed.
"I doubt he'd come back in that case—"
"About that," Mariposa interrupted, eyeing Venatrix in a way that made her pause. An unreadable expression lingered beneath the smear of red paint bisecting the One girl's face as she took a seat in front of Venatrix. She crossed one leg over the other, a sharp movement. "What happened to that all-Career final eight you wanted?"
Something almost accusatory colored her tone, and Venatrix forcibly ignored the instinctual bristling that tried to tense her shoulders. "Listen, it was a nice thought. But that's all it ever was. We're down to five outliers; you know what starts to happen when they dwindle." The 'Makers come for us, ship or not, she didn't say out loud. If I can't stop it, the least I could do is control who goes first. "Besides, I highly doubt you or Viper would be willing to let that happen."
"Right, blame me for what you said."
Of all the bullshit to start arguing over… "I'm not doing this," Venatrix clipped. "How 'bout you tell me what you're really pissed about?"
A beat of silence met her demand; Venatrix could practically feel Percy's gaze pleading her not to make mountains out of molehills.
In a ploy for the One girl's attention, Charcoal the cat wound between her legs before leaping up onto her bench. Venatrix watched as she absently stroked the animal, presumably collecting herself. "I've made it clear from the beginning that I want Viper dead," Mariposa said plainly. "I don't give a fuck— I really don't— if you want him to take out Shannon or Idris, or if you want to pit those two against each other in some fucked up mini death match, but can we at least get rid of the fucking snake? Like, first, preferably."
Venatrix exchanged a look with Percy. She had a point. An incredibly biased point, but a solid one all the same. One that would tear the pack to shreds in a way that getting rid of the weakest link wouldn't.
Or maybe she was wrong, and the pack was doomed to splinter early anyways.
Venatrix sighed, pulling out the sword from its sheath in her belt. Reaching over the edge of the ship, she dipped her sleeve into the water, running the damp fabric along the streaks of red-iron that still stained the blade. No telling whose it was; Career or outlier, it all looked the same. "You're right, Posy." Her eyes flicked between two blondes; her allies, her friends. "But I am taking this one day at a time. Today, we don't need to kill him, or any of them. Tomorrow, who knows, okay?"
A tight frown still pressed Mariposa's lips together.
"Look, I don't think anyone has any intention of taking this kill from you, I can promise you that." Venatrix nudged Percy with her boot. "Right, Perce?"
"I—huh? Of course not, no."
Mariposa's hands fell still. Displeased by the turn of events, Charcoal nosed his head beneath her palm, and she ran a gentle hand down the length of the cat's spine as Venatrix scrubbed her sleeve again over her blade. "I don't see why we have to wait," the One girl said finally. "We could just ambush him and Shannon when they—"
"No," Venatrix said flatly.
"Why?"
Percy interjected with an awkward cough. "I don't think it would be as easy as you seem to think—"
"Yes it would!" Mariposa shot to her feet, dislodging the cat from her lap. "We can strike when they climb up—" she gestured sharply to the water to emphasize her point— "or you could snipe them while they're swimming over, or whatever! It's not like the others would even know."
Instinctively, Venatrix felt herself tense, fingers curled automatically around the sword's hilt; not at Mariposa's words, but at the very acute fact that they were under the lens of the entire nation, including but not limited to both Viper and Shannon's mentors. She raised a hand to halt the One girl in her tracks. No doubt their conversation put those behind the glass on high alert. There's a reason betrayals are plotted in shadow. Her gaze fell from the sky to land on Mariposa's knitted brow, and finally, she sheathed her weapon. "I said no. Leave it, please."
An irritated exhale and a nod was all the One girl granted her.
Venatrix couldn't tell if Mariposa fully grasped her train of thought; not like she could explain out loud. She had no doubt that if her and Viper's positions were reversed at this moment, her father wouldn't sit idly behind the screen while she walked into such a blatant ambush. Even now, despite the lack of praise for her actions, she had to trust that.
He wouldn't abandon me.
It would be prudent to assume the same of the other mentors.
Percy, at least, looked relieved to drop the subject; Venatrix could see it in the way his shoulders relaxed ever-so-slightly. Not enough to forget about the bow and quiver permanently glued to his torso when not in use, but enough to pass the rest of the afternoon in relative peace.
Throughout the day, the water that previously swirled around their feet had either evaporated off or dripped through the slats of the deck to the holds. At her instruction, they spent some time clearing it out with whatever buckets and watertight containers they could find. On her fourth or fifth trip to dump her bucket, movement caught Venatrix's eye on the left bank. Two figures, arms waving in greeting.
Venatrix caught Percy on his way to the edge. "Hey." He raised a brow and she jerked her chin towards Viper and Shannon before snagging the ram's horn that Idris had left in the hold. Placing it to her lips, she blew a loud blast to signal that she'd seen them.
She had to give it to the Four boy; there was something childishly satisfying about using the horn.
Upon seeing their returning companions, Mariposa immediately discarded her bucket. As Venatrix headed to the back of the boat, she tagged along, out of Percy's earshot. "Last chance," she said in an almost-whisper. Venatrix ignored her, twisting the steering oar to guide the boat towards their allies.
Mariposa's sigh was half-longing, almost imperceptible.
Luckily, Venatrix didn't have to tell the boys to come back to the boat the way they'd left; she looked up to find them already in the water and quickly closing the distance. She joined Percy where he stood at the rail, hand extended to help them board. Shannon clasped into it, and Percy hauled him up, though Viper refused the courtesy of Venatrix's similar offer. He rolled over onto the deck, standing with more fluid grace than she would've expected. "Find anything?"
"Jack shit," he hissed. Already irritable. Of course.
"Yeah, I could tell by all those cannons," Mariposa snarked, and he shot her a glare.
"What about any fresh water sources?" Venatrix pressed.
Viper, apparently, couldn't be assed to answer, so Shannon spoke instead. "Yeah, actually, we came across a few that look like they might feed into the river."
Now that he mentioned it, Venatrix remembered the waterfall she'd seen earlier. She nodded in appreciation. If sponsorships couldn't cover their water, it was good to know the arena could. It rarely didn't; dying of thirst wasn't exactly peak entertainment.
A call rang out from Percy at the front of the ship— he'd spotted the others way down the river.
Again, Venatrix let out a blast from the horn, guiding the ship towards the other bank. It took longer this time to reach them, though they dropped the anchor this time once they neared the shallows. As expected, the bend in the river had yet to impede their path; Grethel and the Fours waited just at its crest.
Pack and supplies in hand, Venatrix led the group to the shore, where Patience greeted them with a skeptical scowl. "What did you do to the sail?" she asked, squinting at the vessel.
"We, uh, tried to put it up."
She hummed sarcastically. "I see. Without untying the yard? Very impressive." Without waiting for a response, she stalked away to help with the preparations for the campsite.
Ignoring the flicker of embarrassment, Venatrix turned to Grethel instead. "I assume you found nothing of importance, then?"
The Three girl shook her head. "A few tracks by a creek back there—" she jerked her thumb in the direction they'd started out from— "but they were old. Didn't lead anywhere."
"Alright. That's about what we can expect at this point in the Games."
Grethel nodded, taking her acquiescence as a dismissal. The girl blended easily back into the bustle of preparation; Venatrix again noticed how she took on the role of preparing their meal. Perhaps it was her paranoia talking, but Venatrix waited until Grethel had finished the majority of her portion before taking a single bite. A wise move, she knew, until she could face a day with no worries of poison or betrayal or untimely death.
Soon, Venatrix told herself. How she longed for it.
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A/N: I fucking hate boats. I don't know anything about them... neither does Venatrix, thank god, so I will spare you guys from an over abundance of naval terms. The best thing to come out of my boat research though was finding a really good reference for the actual ship they're on ! With like.. some minor aesthetic and technological differences.. so if u look up the reconstructed Viking ship Ottar, that'll give you an idea ! I think I've been vague enough in the description of the ship before this chapter that it matches c: (that was deliberate, it's called planning ahead for the unknown, folks)
Anyways, more importantly, it's October 4th which means happy birthday Dagmara ! I am attempting my birthday update schedule again this year, so plan for the next chapter to be out on Venatrix's birthday, which is October 16 ! :D See you guys then !
- Nell