Closer and Closer

Rustling.Rustling means trouble.

She was on her feet in a matter of seconds, shooting through the foliage like a startled rabbit, a pretty accurate description of herself at that moment, she thought as she hopped over a stump. The fox was practically on her heels now, too small to be one of the massive bulks from Nine or Two, and two agile to be the injured girl that Ivy had once called an ally. That left one other tribute, and not one she liked.

She was running out of energy, her legs were beginning to feel like lead, and her breaths were coming in short bursts, burning in her lungs and throat. Keep moving! She ordered herself, pumping her arms harder. She took a sharp turn to try to lose the fox, but hit a hidden pot hole. Her foot twisted at an odd ankle and she could feel her ankle crackle as the bones snapped. She screamed in agony, clutching her ankle and allowing tears to stream down her face. She tried to scrabble into the underbrush to hide, but the attempt was useless, she had already given away her position to half the arena, and the fox was still close on her tail.

Shortly after she hit the ground, the fox came storming through the brush, grinning broadly when she laid eyes on the injured girl. "Ivy Hold," her voice is thick with amusement. "Surprised you made it this far little girl. It's actually kind of admirable, a shame you won't be making it an farther." Her smirk is so wide, and so maniacal that it's almost believable that this is all a twisted nightmare. The girl from the luxury district, who came to the capitol with silky blond hair and fair skin, but now was darkened by sun, and scars, with hair so matted with twigs, and blood, and tangles that is was unrecognizable, was nothing more than the monster under her bed that she had made her father check for before she went to bed that night.

The girl ran a hand along the handle of one of her knives, but didn't pull it out. "Such a shame." Suddenly she dropped to her knees, straddling the younger girl, and wrapped her fingers around her throat, disregarding the knives strapped around her chest by the vest.

Ivy shrieked and tried to pry her fingers off, trying even harder to breath. No breathing wasn't the problem, air was still making it to her lungs, if what the medical trainer had said was true. Air in her lungs, but no oxygen to the brain. She had to focus less on dragging in breaths and more on prying away her enemies fingers. Black began to creep around the edges of her vision. Losing time. She wasn't going to make it. Darker, maniacal laughter... the feel of soft fabric, the smell of fresh baked cookies smuggled from the dining cart.

Kat shrieked, and tugged at the sheet, which had somehow managed to wrap itself firmly around her neck. She squealed and tugged, and managed to get it loose, tumbling off the bed in the process, and landing on the carpeted floor with an audible, thunk!

She groaned, and sat up, rubbing her neck gingerly. As she was still trying to work out what had happened, her door burst open, and Slader came tumbling in, still half asleep, and in his flame designed, flannel night pants, wielding a half empty glass bottle. "What's going on in here? Are you alright?"

Kat stared at him a moment, examining the slight ripples that suggested budding abs, she didn't know Slader even had that going for him. "What are you doing in here, Stupid?" she snapped indignantly, turning and using the bed as a prop to bring her to her feet, and also hiding the crimson blush that had colored her face at seeing the boy shirtless.

"I heard you screaming," he says innocently.

"What's the wine for?"

"Defense."

"Against what? We're on a train going some 1,000 miles an hour."

"I thought one of he Avoxes might have snapped or something," he shrugged.

"It was a nightmare stupid! The Avoxes are locked out of our compartment after we all go to sleep," she snarled, turning to face him, and hoping the red in her face would be passed off as anger.

It wasn't.

"Are you blushing?" Slader snickered.

"No!" She shouted, moving and shoving him out, "Get out!"

"What's going on in here?" Corda exclaimed, stumbling into the room wielding a thin-heeled shoe.

"It's fine Corda. Go back to bed?"

"I heard screaming," Corda informed, brow furrowed.

"Yeah, I just had a nightmare."

"What's wrong with your neck?" Corda wondered, reaching over and gently, brushing the red mark ringing her neck from the sheet. Corda might not have been the brightest, but she's a mother of two, and she never missed abnormalities like that.

"I got tangled in the sheets," Kat told her, trying to usher her out behind Slader. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure? Maybe you should get some ice on that."

"No, I'm fine. Seriously," Kat insisted.

Corda didn't look convinced, but obliged, allowing the girl to push her out of the room. "Well then, get some sleep. Tomorrow's a big day you know! Going to District 8! Textiles! Exciting, isn't it?"

"Very," Kat said, not sounding excited in the least a she slide the door shut.

"Well someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed, didn't she?"

Slader looked at the woman disbelievingly. "What?"

"How are you still peppy? It's like...three in the morning. You're supposed to be tired and grumpy... like Kat!" He informed.

"I can still hear you!" Kat's voice called from the other side of the door.

"See?" Slader exclaimed, jamming a finger at the door pointedly. "Exactly what I mean."

"Well! Not all ladies are like that!" Corda huffed indignantly, throwing back locks of freshly died pink hair (she had brought products on the road since the trip would be taking so long.) and turning to stomp away.

Slader groaned, and flung back his head, muttering, "Women." He then proceeded to turn an disappear back in his room.

Once his door had closed firmly, the young capitol girl's door silently slide back open, and her pink head popped out, looking carefully up and down the hallway, before the rest of her came out, on sock-footed tip-toe. She snuck to the dining cart, dropping off the empty that had once contained cooking, and picking up a bowl of warm vegetable soup on her way out, in the mood for something warm. A lone Avox looked curiously at her as she did so, and she put finger to her mouth, realizing after it had happened that it was rather silly, since the Avox couldn't tell on her anyhow.

Once back in her room, Kat scarfed down the soup, and snuggled back into the blankets, listening to the sound of the train, which could only be heard if there was complete silence, and even then only faintly. Usually it helped her fall a asleep, but not tonight. She was restless, her nightmares where getting worse, and with each day that passed, seemingly more and more realistic.

More and more.

Closer and closer.

...

There probably won't be any updates this weekend. I'm going to be very busy. DX