The Stars
Title: Breath Again
Characters: Syarnark, Cuan, Pyro, Faiz, mentions of everyone else
Word Count: 715
Warnings: Death/murder, the Games
Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games and the inspiration for these characters comes from another series entirely.
Notes: Now you know who went into the Games. And we get some more plot while we're at it!
010: Breathe Again
Tracking was an arduous task requiring both patience and restraint, a delicate balance between life and death for all involved.
It wasn't simply a matter of staying out of sight and keeping to utter silence. There were dozens of other factors that had to be considered when tracking one's prey.
Because it was so easy to turn the tables and become the hunted instead.
Syarnark had never before set foot in any type of woods or grassland in his entire life. District 3 was a landscape of grey stonework and treacherous trash heaps, the only source of plant life the weeds that snuck through the concrete.
This terrain was completely unfamiliar, a place of towering trees hosting animals he had only ever heard about in stories.
But the concept was the same.
Track the target, wait for an opportunity, and carry out the mission as swiftly and safely as possible. It was meaningless to come out of a conflict dead or worse, so tracking your target without preparation was just as bad as not tracking him at all.
His eyes glazed over as he waited, listening to the array of strange sounds all around him as he crouched low in the underbrush, the target within sight yet far enough away to fall into a false sense of security.
Usually he'd have someone with him - Matiy, perhaps, or Pyro if Cuan was feeling particularly spiteful that day. Anyone at his back would have given him that extra layer of confidence instead of straining his senses to keep a watch out for anyone who might be tracking him.
But he didn't have any allies here.
It was just him and the weapons he managed to snatch up at the beginning of the Games or steal as he went along.
The Capitol-grade dagger at his side was surprisingly light, a fine piece of metal unlike what they normally scrounged up in the junkyard. Having a weapon, particularly one he was familiar with, did make him feel better about this "game".
Syarnark lifted his head a few inches off the ground, eying his target as she settled down into a concealed groove between two twisted trees.
He'd spent an uncomfortable twelve hours tracking the girl from District 6 this far, away from the Cornucopia and the other tributes. Theoretically, he could have struck at any time - but then the others would have no doubt heard the commotion.
Fingering the dagger with its fine, curved handle, he inhaled a small and quiet breath that barely stirred the leaves before him, and descended.
Quickly, swiftly, leave no trace of your presence behind - that was how they operated.
Most of the time their targets never even noticed them, much less had a chance to strike back. This time was no different. The girl was exhausted and had no reason to believe that someone had been able to track her this far into the forest when there had been other tributes to chase.
It was the first strike that was the most vital. Even Pyro never faltered, however much he complained about the job beforehand. It was Faiz who was the best at it, though.
Syarnark's smile didn't fade as he slipped through the trees, drew the dagger from its sheath, and sliced the girl's throat open in one smooth movement.
The resulting blood splatter stained the edges of his sleeves as he darted away from the girl, struggling and gurgling on the ground as she tried to desperately staunch the blood flow.
He couldn't help but laugh, thinking about how the others would call his skills unpolished. Faiz, certainly, would tease him for getting blood on him and for the mess he'd left behind. Sche would berate him for taking so much time stalking the girl in the first place.
Only Pyro would glower at him, turn away and refuse to speak to him for an entire day or week afterwards.
The smile faded from his lips, but it was a minuscule change in his expression.
It sucked working back-to-back like this. He'd had hardly any rest since the Games began.
He couldn't wait until he could breath easily again. Even though he wouldn't be able to see everyone else again even if he got out of here alive.