Chapter 34- Terra Coppersmith
The small bird flutters around in the dirt, apparently digging up seeds. He stops when the arrow buries itself in his body. I straighten up, holding my bow, and I smile. Lunch!
Fletcher and I found another pool down in a dip in the sand, and there are trees here and everything. A little desert paradise. We're a few miles off from the mountain, and after we eat and fill up our water bottles, we're going to head back up.
"Look what I got," I say, waving the bird on the end of the arrow. Fletcher's started a fire with some wood broken off of the trees here. If the wood here is anything, it's dry.
"Nice one," he says, and he smiles. "Think we can roast it on the arrow?"
"After we gut it," I say, using my arrow to cut the bird open and drop its insides out into the sand. I quickly bury them, so we don't attract any predators.
"Now we can roast it," I say, holding the bird over the tiny fire. It's not the best, but it'll do in these circumstances.
"I'm glad I came and found you," Fletcher says, leaning back against a hill. "I'd be going hungry if it wasn't for you."
"If you weren't here, I could eat this all by myself," I tease, turning the bird around and around so it roasts evenly.
"That's no fun though, is it? My father always told me that meals are to be shared," Fletcher says, shielding his eyes from the sun.
"What are you going to do, Fletcher, if you don't get a weapon soon?" I ask, changing the subject.
He shrugs. "I don't want one. I don't want to hurt anyone."
"Are you saying you're not going to kill anyone?" I ask in disbelief.
"If I can help it, no, I won't kill anyone. I'm not going to hurt my soul like that."
"I killed a boy for this pack," I say, gesturing to my backpack besides me.
"That's you, not me," Fletcher says, and he's serious for once. "I'm playing these Games on my own terms, Terra."
I know enough to drop the subject then. "Look, the bird's ready," I say once it's black on the outside and well cooked inside. My ally and I make quick work of our meal. It's not the best food I've ever eaten, but also not the worst. It certainly can't compare to the Capitol food.
"So, tell me about your sister," Fletcher says. "I know about your friends, but what about your sister? Your family?"
At the mention of Deecey, my cheeks flush. I don't know if she knows about last night, but if she does, I don't really want to go home and face her. Maybe I have an excuse for going after the boy she wanted, and I know she's the forgiving type, but I still feel kind of bad about it.
Not bad enough to stop kissing Fletcher, mind you.
"Her name is Iry, and she's eight," I say, cleaning my arrow in the sand. "It's really just her and me now that my father's dead, and I love her pretty much more than anything else in the world."
I look at Fletcher and tilt my head slightly to the side. "What about you? Who's in your family?"
"My parents and my two brothers, one older, one younger," he says, looking off into the distance. He seems preoccupied today, and I'm not sure why. I look down and swirl the orange sand around into flowers and other patterns. Orange. I start to laugh and can't stop.
"What's so funny" Fletcher says, grinning like he usually does again.
"I'm just imagining Postumius in here with us; can you imagine him wandering around in the desert?" I say, and then we're both laughing at the idea of our idiotic escort shuffling around in the sand.
"He'd be looking up at the sky waiting for a parachute to bring him a drink," Fletcher says, and we just howl. It's really funny to think about, and it's even funnier when a parachute actually descends into our midst.
"Well, would you look at that," Fletcher says, picking the bundle up by the parachute. "Woven and Shuttle must think we're funny too."
"Open it," I say eagerly. Our first sponsor gift!
Fletcher unwraps it to reveal a black handled knife; smooth near the top and serrated near the hilt.
"Looks like they think you need a weapon," I say. "That'll come in handy if we decided to bring down some bigger prey." I'm not thinking about animals, though.
"How'd you get that good with a bow?" Fletcher asks, looking from his knife to me.
"I practiced for three days and I guess I was just naturally good. Not sure, really," I say.
The sun is really, really hot today, hotter than yesterday for sure. The Gamemakers must be cranking the heat up in here. I lean forward and splash my face with water. When the ripples cease, I can see my face. I look a mess; my hair is standing out around my head in tangled knots; somehow the hair tie that Damius gave me got lost.
"Want to head back up to the mountain?" Fletcher asks, looking at me. I pause for a moment, then nod. Maybe it's foolish to leave the water, but I'd feel safer if I was up high.
"Let's go then," he says, offering me his hand. I take it and he pulls me up. I put my backpack on, nock the arrow I was holding onto my bow, and we set off.
We don't talk, we just walk in silence. We see nobody, just some birds and the occasional lizard that scurries away from us when we get close. It's a haunting world, one in which you can truly believe that you are the only people left on Earth.
"What's that?" Fletcher asks, grabbing my arm. I listen but don't hear anything but wind.
"The wind?" I say, but he listens harder.
"That shuffling sound. Listen!"
I listen again, and this time I hear it; soft padding through the sand. It doesn't sound like a tribute. What is it then?
Fletcher abruptly pushes me around a hill, knocking sand into my hair. I start to protest, but he covers my mouth and comes around to hide with me. What is he doing?
I understand when the big cat comes into my line of vision.