Attack? Or run?
Katniss could feel the adrenaline coursing through her veins, the fight-or-flight syndrome giving her option to stay and challenge the danger, or flee.
She fled.
Trees whipped past in a dizzying blur as Katniss raced through the undergrowth, roots rising up from the earth like silent snakes, their only purpose to make her fall. Their attempt, however, was in vain as Katniss leapt over them, frantically trying to outrun her pursuer.
She couldn't run forever though.
Katniss's legs started burning, pain shooting up her body every time she took a step.
No. She couldn't run forever.
But fighting just wasn't an option.
When Katniss first became aware of the unknown tribute behind her, she didn't hesitate before she began to fly through the forest. Her head told her to stop, be bold and brave and battle the opponent. She'd promised Prim that she'd try to win, promised that she would come back to her baby sister. Katniss's mind told her to fight, to attack, but her body ran. Flew. As if she was a mockingjay, soaring through the open sky. Not a care in the world. Free. Katniss wasn't a bird though. She wasn't a bird and she wasn't free.
Suddenly, Katniss's legs gave way and she tumbled into the muddy ground. With the chemicals still flowing in her blood, Katniss quickly crawled into the hollow of a nearby tree, hoping it would be enough to conceal her.
Silence.
Not the chirping of a cricket. A rustle of leaves. The chatter of a squirrel.
Nothing.
Except the panting of Katniss's breath. The pounding of her heart. The rush of blood in her ears.
Snap.
The crack of a twig told Katniss that her pursuer was close. Too close.
The fight or flight response was renewed within her body and, this time, Katniss wasn't sure she had much of a choice.
Attack? Or run?
Attack.
Rory could see his silhouette outlined by the faint and distant moon. Big. Strong. Menacing. He was obviously a career, and almost twice as large as Katniss. He held something to his chest, a weapon Katniss knew she should be wary of. But she wasn't. Katniss's mind and body had switched sides, her head telling her to run, to fly, but her body telling her to fight. Katniss unconsciously sank into a crouch, preparing to spring on her pursuer.
Katniss waited until he was close enough and his back was turned.
Then, she sprang.
Katniss was flying again but not like she was before. This was different. This time, she really did soar through the air like a bird. She felt lightweight. Free.
That was, until she landed with a thump on the tribute's back.
The sudden attack caught him by surprise and he turned his head. The tribute's face became enraged once he was Katniss clinging to him for dear life. He tried to reach behind himself to grab the girl but, either his arms were too short, or Katniss was too small to grasp. In the process, the boy had dropped the weapon he'd previously clutched to his chest so valiantly.
Katniss had the advantage.
Using the knowledge she'd gained during the training sessions in the Capitol, Katniss took hold of each side of the tribute's head, and twisted sharply until she heard the resounding crack of his neck.
Satisfied, Katniss dropped daintily to the ground as the large body collapsed beside her. She turned…
…Only to find herself face to face with similar weapons to the one her pursuer dropped. Knives. Arrows. Swords. The other careers had found and cornered her.
Katniss was outnumbered.
"So, what's it gonna be, Katnip?" She whispered to herself.
Attack? Or run?
Fight or fly?