Nothing. He couldn't see anything from Jay's side of the table. For all he knew, she could have ran out of the garden and just . . . left. It scared him, that he would even consider it, but it was probable . . . Jay valued her life and didn't fully trust him, which he could call total bullshit on if he hadn't stopped on this little detour for tea . . .

If only he had resisted the urge.

Shaking his head, Gryffon snapped out of place and rounded the corner of the table, running straight toward the cluster of mist. The more he moved, though, the farther he felt himself go. It was like he was running backwards, and he had no idea why. He urged his legs to move faster, but it seemed like no progress was made, and the world just flashed black and white and distorted his vision, contorting his eyes until he couldn't see anything but bright colors and lights.

BOOM

No. He was just hearing things - it was just the illusion. That cannon wasn't Jay's! Gryffon shook himself out of the strobe and his feet tripped up and jerked him forward into someone else.

Oh, thank god!

Gryffon restrained the urge to pull her to her feet and just run when he felt Jay's form curl up slowly and search for his face, trying to fit something over his eyes. "Take it - " Before he pushed it up entirely, he noticed the tears in her eyes and how her lips trembled. By then, her fear was practically tangible. It's all she felt. No confidence, none whatsoever.

He turned toward where he thought the fog would be, and honestly, Gryffon didn't know if he should laugh at the ridiculousness of what he saw, or crawl away crying.

The mist had vanished and was replaced by what Gryffon could only call a monstrous butterfly. Its wings swirled with countless flashing colors and patterns, its body was long and black, and the creature's damned face was alien-like. He had never seen something so ugly or stupid. It just held itself there, staring at them, its long and hairy proboscis twitching every couple seconds, as if considering if they'd make a good meal.

"Let's go, Jay, it - "

The insect hissed and hovered closer, its antennae tickling down onto their heads while its large ovular eyes trained on them and reflected a million Jay's and Gryffon's in its multicolored glare.

"I can't - I - "

Gryffon felt the furs brush over his forehead, and at once his body tingled with goosebumps and he felt his stomach churn.

No more bugs . . . He was done with the bugs in the damned arena, he wasn't going to let one more touch him . . . He just . . . Uhg!

Gryffon pushed Jay to the side so he could duck under the butterfly's legs and only then did he pull them both up to his feet. He almost shoved her along when Jay slumped weakly against his chest and made him hesitate for a moment. Now was not the time . . . Gryffon dropped his pack and pulled her onto his back, feeling her fingers inch into his collar. Its hold tightened around his throat, but when the butterfly hissed again, he jumped out of the way and ran, just barely being able to keep the hanger in hand and completely abandoned the pack.

They would find a way to make do without it . . .

The mutt let out a sort of gurgling growl and the closer it got, the thicker the air became. Gryffon found it harder and harder to breath with every step he took and no matter where he looked or where he concentrated, it was like the world was turning into an upside down mess of saturated colors. The glasses made everything but the butterfly look weird and twisted, like someone had stepped on everything and squished the world, but his feet ran straight in the hopes of finding an exit.

"Almost," Jay barely mumbled by his ear, her fingers lessening their hold on his neck.

Another fit of hissed exploded behind Gryffon, and just before Jay's command of "jump!" registered, he felt the creature's legs brush over his arms and probably Jay's back. Pushing back the feeling of disgust, he propelled himself over the fence and let go of Jay all together. He felt himself stumble then stagger to the ground, sinking onto the hard stems of the grass on his side.

His ears were ringing, his heartbeat was rapid, and his breathing was ragged, and in no time at all, his vision was clouded with black spots, dizzying him more than he already was. Gryffon groaned and pushed a hand to his face, passing his palm over his face and knocked the glasses off.

Breathe, breathe, stop beating so hard . . . Stop it all together.

He forced air in solely through his nose and slowly out his mouth, hating how shaky he sounded, how weak, but he couldn't help it. The fucking designers were assholes . . . Give the lions chokers, why not!? Might as well kill them from suffocation!

Gryffon pressed his palms to the floor and pushed himself up to sit, tightening his muscles when he coughed a few times. Damn . . . It wasn't even that far a distant . . .

"Jay, we should really . . . " he started, gasping in a tiny little breath. Okay, no talking yet, then. He focused on his inhales and exhales as he turned his head slowly to search for his partner, not having to turn all the way to find her limp body only feet away from him. "Jay!?" There hadn't been a second canon, right? She was alive then, she had warned him to jump, she -

The ever so slight rise of her chest calmed him down and allowed him to crawl toward her, his eyes analyzing every part of her. The butterfly didn't hurt her . . . So why . . .

Fucking intelligent jerks . . . he thought, eyes widening. "You drank the tea . . ?" A very small twitch of her lip held her smile in place for a moment before it cooled back into place as if in static.

The tea was nothing but bait . . . The fog was the real villain of that garden . . . The mutt hidden there. "A lot?" Gryffon crouched there for a minute or so, watching her for any response, but none came. "A little?" Another twitch of her lip, but not nearly as effortless as the first. Yes and yes, he would assume those attempts at a smile had been.

"Good," Gryffon muttered, letting out another trembling sigh. The Gamemakers were smartasses, that much he had figured out. Why he hadn't heeded their warning is beyond him, though.

Curare vines right at the entrance. And he knew what they were used for! He knew they caused paralysis . . . He knew they could be turned into a sort of poultice or powder and could be put into drinks . . . It was one of the few things he actually knew and he fucked it up.

"Like always, hm?" Gryffon echoed aloud, chuckling bitterly, an edge to his voice. "I'll stop swearing things . . . Maybe then they'll keep themselves." Unspoken promises were promises impossible to break after all, right? No one else heard it, no one could assure it was said . . . No one else could touch it to shatter it and it could be bent to fit different situations . . . He'd be better off just doing that.

I'll stop being a screw-up. I'll make it work now, just watch . . . I'm not promising you, I'm promising this for myself . . . Gryffon raised a brow at Jay and tilted his head to the side. He could swear he saw another little twitch, like a half-smile, something that showed approval. But maybe not. The Capitol's poison seemed to work fast, maybe her jaw and cheek muscles were already too frozen and he was just imagining it. He was probably just imagining it . . .

"Now as long as your lungs or heart don't stop . . . " he whispered, pretty much to himself, as he slipped his arms under Jay's body.

There was no way he was walking with her in tow like that for too long. He'd wait the curare off, the effects shouldn't last too long, right? She barely drank any of the tea, which would probably already have diluted the poison as it was.

Gryffon just had to wait now.

He dragged his feet over the bristling grass a few yards when the clumps of overgrown flowers started to rise around him again, this time in secluded bunches. Daisies, roses, tulips, pansies, and farther down a cluster of poppies. Gryffon trudged forward, trying to get away from the flowers all together because yes, it could serve as good shelter for them, but it would for others as well, but the line of poppies seemed to never end and he just gave up.

With a tired and annoyed sigh, Gryffon turned into the large stems and maneuvered around them, cringing several times when he kicked one or himself, finding it hard to walk again. At least it was just walking . . . No running, no fighting. It was just waiting, and he had time.

He had plenty of -

BOOM

Gryffon sank gradually to his knees and placed Jay gently beside a stem and crouched beside her. He slid the hanger down his arm and held it at the hook's base again at the ready. It was silly. The entire thing was just downright silly. A clothes hanger as a weapon. Really? Whose smart idea was it? He couldn't help but smile at the thought. Gryffon really wanted to know. Who got drunk and decided to give plastic bags and hangers as weapons?

He blew out a growling gasp and sat back, wincing as he felt his back hit the stem hard. Damn cat . . . Damn arena . . . Damn the canons and the dangers . . . Damn everything.

Gryffon tilted his head back and blinked up above the blood-red petals, faintly wondering if the Fallen would be projected into the tunnels, but from what Jay had said, they didn't.

She knew them all, though, he reminded himself, glancing down at Jay's motionless body. She also knew of the glasses. The initial strobing lights had pretty much blinded him, maybe it made sense for her to reach for the sunglasses . . . But how she had known all the Fallen he still didn't entirely understand.

"Three canons after that . . . Eleven dead," he reiterated. "Plus Four . . . twelve." At least knowing the number helped, at least he knew how many were left to go down. Ten others aside from Jay and himself, and they were barely into the fifth day by then.

Gryffon couldn't tell if the Games would drag on longer than the usual two weeks or not, it was impossible to tell.

He shook his head and bent a knee as he leaned his head back against the body of the flower, his eyes trained on Jay. She was so still . . . She looked so sweet, so innocent, like she had the first time he saw her. Careless and stupid and giggly like any other little girl. She just simply looked like she was asleep: asleep with no worries clouding her mind, unlike the last couple of years.

Like a doll. She looked like a doll - chipped and gritty and abandoned - but a doll all the same.

If she got out, she could return to that. She could be worry-free and fix herself to become that child-figure of a little toy. Go from being so hard and tough to a fluffy little plush again. Andie and Stephen could really use that.

Stephen . . .

He just barely suppressed the smile that curled over his lips at the echo of his brother's name. The ache hadn't been there as much before, the thought of never seeing him again hadn't really come up. The consequences were never really there.

Gryffon always knew he loved his brother, but the potential of the boy forgetting who Gryffon was wasn't something Gryffon wanted. . . What if he wanted Stephen to remember him? To see him again without the blood and dirt and sticky water dried all over him?

Or not.

Who cared?

He couldn't, anyway . . . Well, shouldn't.

With a moan, Gryffon blinked his eyes open and shook his head, but his lids grew heavier and they dropped over his vision every time he tried to keep them open. No matter how hard he tried, he just couldn't stay alert, and within the hour he slipped into sleep.