Disclaimer: I shall never have the luck to own even a fraction of the Hunger Games.
Dedicated: Okay, the idea for this arena (which is ingeniously epic) was thought of by Batooo (Dude, once again, genius).
Also, Realityshowfan, you wanted asked for one more twelve-year-old to kill a Career.
With that said, let the battle begin!
Wren Byrd (Age 18) female – District 6
Okay. Normal people would be frightened if they had to jump onto a giant bird's back. Most people would probably run away and scream in terror. But not me, I'm smarter than that. I'm stronger than that, so even if the giant possibly man-eating bird did try to eat me, I would be able to fight it. I trained for it. So when this massive flock of massive birds flew over the canyon, and this giant falcon landed in front of me with my District's number painted in a red over its chest, I drew my sword. And right then, on a narrow ledge on the canyon wall with the hot, bright sun beating down on my sweating brow, I realized. These things weren't mutations sent by the Gamemakers to harm us. They were sent by the Gamemakers to help us. We were supposed to ride the freaky giant birds.
As it just so happens, giant birds aren't the easiest things in the world to ride. But, after three days, I've figured out the basics. Or at least I think, or maybe I should say hope. The birds know how to respond to simple commands as well as think on their own in midair combat, such as going upside down so you can slice your opponents head off. They only respond to the commands of their District's tributes. If you aren't in its District, it will turn on you and rip your head off. Or from what I've seen. But that is the problem. I can't see anymore. This morning my vision started to fill with black dots, and after a few hours, I could see nothing. I have no idea why it happened, I mean, sure it is sweltering hot, and I haven't had anything to drink since yesterday, but it can't be dehydration yet.
No matter the cause, I've had to rely on my ears for the past few hours, along with a few scattered images from my eyes, hoping this odd occurrence will pass. I'm fine relying on my ears. Giant birds aren't the quietest things in the world. And fighting on a giant bird, this is starting to get challenging. I'm only able to deflect blows as the last minute. Whom I am engaging in midair combat I may never know; just that they are as good with an axe as I am with a sword, which is saying a lot. And they are quieter than the birds. I can't tell what they are doing. So I have to get them talking.
"What District are you? Must be 12 because you fight worse than a two year old!" The taunts which come out of my mouth are foreign, awkward even. I lift my sword to a position that I can maneuver easily for an opposing attack. But the attack never comes.
"Ha! I'm the twelve-year-old from D. 7 that's going to kick your butt!" The high pitched squeak belongs to a young male, and suddenly I'm flushed with embarrassment. I'm being matched by a twelve-year-old, this should be easy. But it means that he stands out in the Games, something I would have been able to see – I hope he can't piece together what my weakness is. Well, not weakness but handicap. He doesn't seem the brightest, especially if he responded to me that quickly.
Because I heard where his head is, my main goal, and I lunge for it. Lunging for it involves propelling myself to the side so one foot is on the tip of the other bird's wing, and somehow I manage. Standing on two wings that don't entirely move simultaneously is a difficult task. It's even harder to fight in this condition, and after two minutes of attack and deflection, I am consumed in exhaustion. Strike to the head, it's met by a block to from the axe. Lop at the neck; the axe lops at my arm. Five minutes, and only a few scratches are present on the both of us. I'm tired, and it will be any second before the boy realizes all he has to do is make his bird move and I will fall to my death. I take a deep panting breath and pass my sword from my right hand to my left and make a wild swing at the head area.
He doesn't expect this, and can't block this broad angle of attack; he just manages to catch the tip of my sword, but not by enough. So I don't think I made contact with his head, but the inhumane scream shortly afterwards gives me the hint that I made contact with something. Victory is near. I lean back to my bird.
My bird looses altitude, making me tumble after it due to gravity. It must be noticing that I need a short respite. Unfortunately I'm still unable to see and I can't tell if this is a possible theory, for the boy could have lost altitude as well. I need to find out where he is. "It should be 'who's' not 'that's'. Did you go to school? Or do you just stand around chopping trees all day?" I don't know if I expect an answer or not, it depends where I hit him. He might not even be there anymore, but his bird is there somewhere.
Boom! I freeze in place at the sound of the cannon. For a second I process all possibilities, but there was only one likely outcome. The boy must be dead. I let out a sigh of relief and let my shoulders relax. I still feel the beating sun on my closed eyelids, and the sweltering heat causes every inch of my body to perspire, making me pant even heavier. "Who were you talking to, Wren?" I jerk my head to the side where the voice comes from. I let out a gasp when I see who it is. Not only has my vision returned, but my District partner is flying alongside me.
"Um, oh, that was District 7." I try to offer a smile, in hopes that I can maybe team up with the bigger and stronger boy. But he just nods slowly with a blank expression on his face.
"Really? And did you notice what your bird number is after that little trick you pulled?" My eyebrows scrunch together as I try to comprehend what he just said. "It's 7. Unless you want your head ripped off, I think you should abandon ship, so to speak." My eyes go wide with realization. Of course I can't see my number, but I would trust Keiro with my life.
"P-Please Keiro, can I hop on your bird? Please!" I pant in desperation, wanting to go before the bird notices I'm not its District. But why hasn't it eaten me yet?
"Why should I, Wren? Better think fast. Maybe jump to the canyon floor? It's not that far down?" I shake my head, but I don't know what else to do. I heave myself off the bird and prepare for a short freefall, about ten feet from what I can see.
100 feet later, my vision does return. I see the darkened outline of a small child on a giant bird holding his shoulder, and another outline of a falcon. Hovering without and owner, and a realization hits me for the second time. There was no cannon fire. Keiro was never here. It was a hallucination. But I know the rocks at the bottom aren't a hallucination. I try to inhale a deep breath, but I can't. Doesn't matter now anyways; the rocks pierce through my chest and head, and I can only wish that it is my imagination.
Mwahaha! I loved this chapter. For those of you who don't know, Wren was experiencing the early signs of heat stroke. Well, my friends, only one chapter after this, and I'm both excited and sad for tomorrow. Thank you to all who have read so far. Thanks to Batooo (Genius, dude, genius), MeanZombieQueen, and xXKillerxxCupcakeXx for reviewing my previous chapter! Thanks to everyone who has read, and maybe you can click that review button down there and tell me what you think! See you (metaphorically) tomorrow!
