"We need to hunt." Clove exclaimed on their second day as allies. For some reason he didn´t think she meant that she wanted to hunt for animals. With zero tributes dead for the past day, he knew the gamemakers would most likely be turning in their seats right about now, waiting for something to happen. At best, they would let the rest of them play it out by themselves but at the worst, they would probably cause some kind of storm that would draw them all together.
He hoped they would let things run its course, but at the same time he just wanted the whole ordeal to be over. One way or the other, he knew that he would be returning soon, the only question was whether or not it would be in a casket. Now that Katniss had abandoned him the implication that he would die soon had once again entered the picture. First, he had been sure that he would die when Cato had almost sliced his thigh of, but fortunately it had all healed nicely, and now the only thing that reminded him that it had ever been there in the first place was a dull throb he felt in his leg occasionally when he´d used it too much.
After Cato´s attempt to kill him there had been the whole starving thing, and after that came the waking up to find a knife pressing into his throat. All in all, he knew that he had been very lucky to survive as long as he had, and now he even had a psychopath career tribute as an ally.
"If we work quickly we can find your star-crossed lover before sundown and I can give her what she deserves." His eyes snapped over to hers and he could see hate and distain clearly written across her features. Her mouth was in a snarl, and her eyes were blazing the way they only did when she thought of something particularly nasty, but at the same time longing seeped into her voice. A sick lust for torture and blood.
"We won´t be hunting for Katniss." He said sternly and just like that he was one the receiving end of one of her death glares.
"What even happened to you two? Trouble in paradise?"
"You could say that…"
"Oh, how my heart breaks. I was hoping for you to have a tearful reunion filled with sunshine, happiness and a lot of butterflies."
"Yes. You sound truly heartbroken."
"I am. It truly chills my warm heart which is filled with longing for a forbidden romance."
Peeta didn´t bother to reply. As much as he didn´t want to "hunt", the only other option was staying in a cave with a sadistic tiny teenager who could hit a target with a knife from fifty meters away whilst sleeping. Standing up, he dusted his clothes off, ignoring the small stab of pain that came from his left thigh. One of his hands ran though his blonde hair, messing it up instead of making it neater.
"Okay, fine. We will hunt. But there will be no killing or harming Katniss if we encounter her and our main goal is to find food." He gestured towards the frail piece of dried peach that sat on his unoccupied sleeping bag. It was the only food they had left. "We do also not kill tributes if we meet any, and only do so if they attempt to harm us first. Got it?"
"Got it." Clove spat, getting to her feet angrily. Peeta would have compared her to an angry kitten had it not been for the fact that she was as lethal as a lioness.
With an angry growl Clove climbed out of their cave and stepped into the forest. He followed but kept a safe distance from her, letting her calm down somewhat.
…
The forest was unusually intimidating. It seemed hushed and lonely, and not before long he struggled to catch up with her, choosing instead to walk by side by side with her. Knowing that there were only seven people left, chilled him to the bone since he knew that the time would come when they would all battle each other for the last remaining spot. He wondered what Katniss was doing, and if she was OK. As for the rest of them – Cato, Foxface, Thresh and the boy from district 10 who had scored a nine- he just hoped they weren´t anywhere close.
He hoped it wouldn´t come down to Katniss and him. She was unpredictable. With Clove, at least he knew that she would turn on him and kill him. It made knots appear in his stomach, but at the same time it was nice to have some kind of foresight on what would eventually happen.
After an hour of walking through the woods, Clove announced that she was going to separate herself from him and try hunting on her own since she was sure every living thing could hear the commotion he did to the ground only by walking on it. Before he had time to object, she had disappeared without any other weapon to defend himself with other than the lifeless knife they used to cut through bark.
Peeta, who had no idea how to even begin to scavenger for plants or set up snares, climbed up a tree and decided that the best course of action would be to simply observe the forest. Hopefully are rabbit or some other animal would wander into his sight and he could attempt to throw a knife at it. But until then, he amused himself by plucking leaves from the tree and tearing them up.
He had just plucked another one when a scream echoed through the woods. Alarmed, he jumped down from the tree and looked around. A couple of seconds later there was the sound of another one. Peeta took off in its direction.
"CLOVE!" He yelled, and was surprised to hear the distress in his voice. He dashed through the trees whilst attempting to keep the branches from cutting into his skin. A couple of seconds later he entered a small clearing and was relieved to see Clove standing up.
That was, until he saw the body which lay at feet.
He vaguely recognized the dark hair and tan skin that told him that it was the boy from district 10. Feeling as if his breakfast was about to make a visit, he focused his gaze on Clove and away from the bloody body.
Her eyes were glassed over and she looked as if she was about to pass out. What really stood out though was the way she held onto her knife as if it was a matter of live and death. Slowly, he took a step closer, aware that Clove was not herself at the moment.
Her eyes snapped to his, and she was raising the knife, getting ready to throw it.
"Clove...Calm down. He said as soothingly as he could, taking another step towards her. "Drop the knife. Please."
He approached her further, and was just about to take the knife from her hand when she snapped open her eyes, and attacked him. His knee groaned in pain, but it was the least of his problems as he fell down, hitting the ground hard. Clove´s hair was in his face, blinding him temporarily. He was also oddly, reminded of something Katniss´ had said back when they were training for the games. She had said that his strength was something he could use in the arena and he had only answered that unless there were bags of flour in the arena to throw around, it would be useless. Unless, of course, he was going to box and throw punches.
Peeta acted on instinct, and without think much about it, he grabbed what he thought was her shoulders and flipped her over. She stared up at him, her eyes blazing like always. He was however relieved to find that her eyes were clear, even if they were openly asking for his death.
"Get of me, you pervert. Don´t think I´m going to hesitate to kill you if you don't."
He sighed, but got on to his feet.
"Maybe I wouldn´t have had to battle you if you hadn´t attacked me in the first place."
"That was hardly a battle," She scoffed, "I didn´t even try and so it doesn´t count. And for the record if I had tried, you would have ended up like that." She pointed a wavering finger at the body laying a couple of feet away and Peeta was reminded why she had been acting the way she had in the first place.
It wasn´t the first time Peeta had seen a dead body. There were incidents when he would go to school and find a dead man leaning against their trashcans. It always made him feel uneasy, but that was the way it had been in District 12. It had also been hard to escape seeing bodies on the day of the cornucopia. Not that he had looked closely anyway.
This time however, it wasn´t just a scrawny, pale, old man he saw but a young olive colored teenager with visible entrails.
Bile rose in his throat and he had to turn away and close his eyes. Clove, in the mean time, just stared at him unimpressed. If it hadn´t been for the barely suppressed quivering of her lips, or her trembling hands, he would have said she did not care that there was a dead boy just steps away from them.
A boy she had killed.