The Games

by snowygrin

He curled his long tail around the tip of his nose, falsely reasurring himself that everything would be fine. But he knew it was pointless. When it came to the games, so he had heard, you were padding into a death trap. He had also heard, that if you do survive, you will not be the same. If you return, you are broken beyond repair.

8. Refuge

Chapter Seven

Snare sat atop a high branch. The oak leaves danced in the faint, evening breeze and the branch swayed gently, rocking her lullingly back and forth, pulling her into a trance of thoughts.

She shivered involuntarily as she remembered the night of choosing. The full moon and the knobby figure of Figstern looking tiredly over them. She could still smell the fear scent that had hung so heavily in the air. She recalled the shrieks of the cat in the canyon they had traveled through to get here, and the tom who had announced the start of the games.

She curled up, her tail wrapping around her nose and her claws digging into the thick, gray bark. She didn't want to admit it to herself, but she was terrified.

She lay there, trying to get some sleep, but couldn't. Her ears swiveled warily at the rasping of sudden gusts of wind. The wind was getting stronger, tossing her fur and ripping the leaves from their branches. It whistled painfully through her ears and seemed to blow the sun farther and farther away, streaking the sky red, and finally fading into a deep blue.

Snare climbed down from her perch, clutching the tree trunk with all of her strength, causing her already-tense muscles to ache agonizingly. She reached the forest floor in a state of exhaustion, her breaths were short and desperate, as if she could not get enough air, even though it brushed past her small body harder than before. Branches and forest debris were being tossed like worthless crow food by the wind.

Snare charged blindly through the forest, tripping and stumbling as she went. She didn't know where she was going, only that she wanted with all of her heart to escape the wind, the cats, this place. She yowled in frustration and despair. No other tributes seemed to hear.

She trekked unknowingly forward, her gray fur blending perfectly with the background. A large branch flew wildly into her side, causing her to yelp in pain. The sound was lost in the winds. Snare knew she had to find a place to stay, or she would die in this wind storm. She limped aimlessly over to an overgrown tree. Its roots grew out of the ground to form a sort of cave. Snare staggered inside, collapsing on the cold ground and curling up. Tangled roots dangled from the ceiling, protruding at odd angles and casting contorted shadows. She was exhausted, but she couldn't sleep, the wind howled restlessly outside, pounding ceaselessly against the den. The sound was hollow reminding her of how lonely she was. She closed her eyes, and tried to block out the world.