He stirred at the sound of something moving beside him, but when Gryffon tried to open his eyes, he still felt too groggy to fully open them and focus on the world. "How's your back, Gryff'?"

With a huff and a small moan, the boy managed to push himself off the ground and knelt beside the poppy's stem and reached his arms over his head, stretching his muscles out. "I uh . . . I dunno. Doesn't hurt as much until its - " yawn " - touched, I guess." He shrugged and sat back on his legs, turning his drooping gaze toward Jay. "How's your leg?" Gryffon watched as she grazed her fingers over the deep scrape and he noticed the bloodied paper towels were rolled up beside her.

"Not sure. I still can't feel my legs. My arms are still kinda numb, but I can move them and feel with them," Jay admitted as her hand slumped back down beside her. "I feel like lead, like even my tongue's too heavy to speak."

Gryffon chuckled half-heartedly and nodded. All you have to do is move it to loosen it up, he thought to himself, but shook his head a bit and went with a similar but different idea. "How'd you sit up?" Just talk and she'd answer and she'd forget the numbness and it'd fix itself.

"I waited for my arms to feel the grass, then pushed." The girl glanced over to her partner and got herself to give somewhat of a smile. "And yes, I only drank a little bit. My heart and lungs weren't affected." Gryffon rolled his eyes; that information was a little obvious by then.

With a mock narrowed look, he raised a hand and poked the tip of her nose. "Really? I hadn't noticed," Gryffon drawled, smirking as she crossed her eyes to look at his hand.

"You need help," she joked, shaking her head to get his finger off, biting forward as if trying to snap at his finger, acting like she would have bit it off if it had stayed in place. Jay giggled lightly and nudged his shoulder, getting him to laugh and wake himself up, but her smile quickly grew bitter and her tone was darker when she spoke again, "you know, I don't think we should stay here much longer."

Right when she was dropping the stick in the mud act, she decided to put up her shell again . . . What was she so afraid of? It was just the two of them there, they would hear anything else . . .

"The water's no good, I checked, and we have no food; we need to get going," Jay continued, reaching for her pack and struggled to get it on. Gryffon merely observed her movements, noticing that despite her hard tone, her fingers shook as she strapped the bag onto her back, and after every few movements her eyes flickered back to Gryffon. "And I think these poppies are trying to knock us out . . . "

"So in other words . . . You're too sleepy to walk and want me to carry you?" Gryffon asked bluntly, but when she opened her mouth to defend herself, he merely smirked and gave away the tease.

When he stood, Gryffon practically towered over her hunched form and had to almost look at his feet to meet her eyes. Nothing more than a sheepish smile looked back up at him, and with a curt nod, Gryffon adjusted her back onto his back. "This time try not to choke me, okay?" he warned.

"No promises," Jay mused, leaning the side of her head against his. "I can try, though."

"You fail, Jay," he chuckled, "don't even try to threat or joke." Gryffon felt her pinch his shoulder sharply in a scold before she linked her fingers in front of her collar bone to keep from gripping onto the bow tie collar.

He walked slowly, not as gradual as the day before thanks to his ability to actually breathe, but still a pace too steady to please the Capitolites. Gryffon could just imagine all their excitement when someone died and the moans and groans and complaints as the tributes just walked, slept, ate, and so on. He almost wished someone would just jump in front of them and let them kill. Running away was getting boring, and it probably wasn't going to get them any sponsors. That is, if Annabelle was putting any bit of effort for their sake in the first place.

"Eight . . . Two yesterday . . . Ten . . . There was another?" Jay counted out loud. "With the dolls . . . The Small World? . . Right?"

"Yeah, one during the clock song," Gryffon confirmed. "So that'd be eleven. Then the Four kid, so twelve." He felt Jay's head bob beside his own before it rested over his shoulder again, a quiet sigh escaping her lips.

"Yeah, twelve," she agreed, interrupting herself half way through with a yawn. "Half way there."

Jay was half way there. Of course she was. And he was just there, acting like her mule.

The flowers began to dwindle in abundance after about twenty to thirty minutes of walking, and Gryffon was tempted to ask for a break, but the sooner they left the tunnels, the safer they'd be. They just had to find a way out.

And it felt like forever until the setting changed. Large flowers lessened into cat-tails and lilies and moister grass and soil. Water. There was some source of water nearby, but apparently they weren't alone.

A snarl came from up ahead, followed by an "Aaahhg!"

Gryffon tightened his hold on Jay and stopped moving, his breathing shallow and every nerve on edge. He was tired and weak and ready to just fall back down again, but a blood-curdling scream wasn't something easy to ignore.

"Ow, damnit! No, it fucking vanished - ow!"

Jay motioned for Gryffon to duck closer toward the longer grasses and he kept walking until a wide overhand of ferns blocked his path and the sound of trickling water could be heard.

"That hurts," the whiny voice came again, choking and small.

"I know, but you need to clean it," a second voice instructed. A boy this time. "Just crouch down or something, let the water clean it without either of us touching it."

At that, Gryffon glanced back at Jay and they both smiled. Now to hope the water was safe to drink. He started to set her down and let her use his shoulders as support while she slid down to sit. It was evident the feeling in her legs was quickly returning, but she was still shaky and looked like a baby just learning how to walk.

"Look, see? It's not too bad; it didn't even reach all the through. It's just a little cut."

"You don't know anything."

Gryffon inched closer to the red ferns and, as quietly as he possibly could, moved a few branches aside so he could crouch under the leaves until he reached an opening he could see through. The girl that knelt in the water was a dark brunette with teary blue eyes, tan skin, pursed thin lips, and a gash similar to his own across her stomach that tore through her rabbit attire and stained it red. She was probably a Career to be that whiny and bratty, and the boy with her . . .

The boy was the young one, the young Career boy . . . He wasn't supposed to be there . . . At all.

"Wear it?" the boy offered as he shrugged his jacket off. "Cut a sleeve off and tie around your waist to keep it from bleeding and wear the rest?"

"Don't be stupid, you need it."

"It's too tight for me, anyway . . . Broad shoulders and all, y'know?"

Gryffon jumped when felt something brush against his back and caused the leaves to rustle.

"What was that?"

"Hell if I know. Check it out, maybe?"

"Mhm . . . "

"Dammit, Jay," Gryffon hissed just under his breath, turning toward the girl. "Go back." His tone was just under a whisper and his glare was just about cutting through her, and she noticed, her tense form told him that.

"I just wanted - "

Gryffon heard a zipper open and glancing back, he saw the boy remove a pair of scissors from the smaller of their three bags, then turned toward the ferns.

He pressed a hand to Jay's shoulder and pushed her back, inching out of the leaves as he stood up. Seconds after, the boy ducked into their little hideout clearing and stared at Gryffon, his gaze confused, quizzical, and accusing. Especially when he looked at Jay.

"You - "

"We got sidetracked," the boy cut Jay off, his green eyes narrowing into dangerous slits. "Hey, lion-boy, having fun? I see you ran into Kitty, too?" he greeted, nodding at Gryffon's scabbing wound. He scoffed at the change of the boy's manner, and just about felt his muscles ache to tear into something at the mention of the nickname. All Careers were the same. "What happened to her? She drank the tea?"

"Just a little - "

"The hell, Jay!?" Gryffon snapped, glancing back at her. Now she was answering the jerk!?

The grass rustled in that moment, and he had just enough time to brace himself when the boy threw himself at Gryffon. He flinched when his back hit the floor and was blinded for a second as the black dots splotched over his vision again.

"Josh, don't - "

"Let go!" Josh's arm jerked to the side and instinctively, Gryffon's hand flashed up and caught the boy's wrist, the tip of the scissors just hovering over his face.

Gryffon gasped and pressed harder on the kid's wrist, pushing back on his arm, fighting the boy's trembling hold with his own. Years of carrying around heavy loads just about matched two years of Career training.

It wasn't fair . . . He wasn't going to die to this kid . . . The one who was supposed to be dead! He was practically fighting a ghost!

He pulled a knee up and shoved it back against the boy's chest and pushed him off, still keeping a hold on his wrist. Gryffon rolled up to his feet and yanked at the boy's hand, hearing the crack as he pulled tendons and muscles apart, splitting apart joints momentarily. He smiled to himself when the scissors were yanked out of Josh's hand and the boy yelped in pain as he stumbled back and fell, holding his hand.

"Get up," Gryffon demanded. "Get up. Now." He gritted his teeth and reached for a handful of hair, tugging the boy back up to his feet and thrust the scissors forward, fitting it in between Josh's ribs. He reveled in the boy's screams, but couldn't help the dizzying feeling the metallic scent his blood sent up to him.

But he'd kill him . . . He'd do what Jay couldn't. He had to or they were both dead.

Josh growled and reeled his arm back, swinging his fist into Gryffon's jaw. His vision crossed and every color and object morphed into one and sent him staggering back a step or two. Josh's faint cry of pain as he tore the scissors out of his body made it to Gryffon, but it just angered him more. He should have aimed for his heart. He should have just gotten it done with!

Clutching the hanger, Gryffon shot his fist forward, but it hit nothing but empty air. He couldn't see anything, though, his aim now was off. Everything was just simply black and nothing seemed to make sense anymore! Everything was just topsy-turny and he felt like he was being turned round and round and round like a fucking carousel.

Zzt
Zzt
Zzt

A cutting pain sliced over his jaw, and the entire left side of his face seemed to come to life with flames. Gryffon let out a snarl, his first reaction being to strike again.

And again.

And again.

Finally on the fourth hit, the hook of the hanger snagged onto something and Gryffon pulled, glad to hear Josh's squeal. He forced an eye open to see what he had done and he couldn't help the grin when his half-opened right eye saw his mouth was torn open.

He had forced the hanger through Josh's cheek and pulled it through his lips . . . He had literally cut the Career's face open.

The feeling of doing this, of proving something . . . He could do it. Gryffon could do it, and he would.

He blinked slowly and listened, hearing the boy's ragged breaths, his fast panting, his tears . . . So salty to him, but looked so sweet to Gryffon. "Look at that," he laughed, "I caught a fish!" He side-stepped Josh's attempt at a stab and pushed the boy back with his free hand. With the other, Gryffon swung. The hanger slashed through the boy's shirt, and another time it merely bruised Josh. He shut his eyes and tried to hit again, but instead felt the boy's fist collided with the side of his face.

Gryffon, rather than flinching away, moved toward the hit and sliced the hanger across the air once more, feeling it stick into something. He cracked his right eye open and fixed his glare on Josh's own and each boy froze in place, the scissors falling with a soft thud.

The Career's gaze was no longer malicious, it was desperate, fearful, and his breathing went from rapid to wheezing. There was one last, despairing need to live, to get out of this somehow, but the boy knew if he moved, he died.

He breathed hard, he died.

He did so much as open what was left of his mouth to try and talk, he died.

BOOM

Too bad he'd die no matter what happened.

Gryffon clenched his one eye shut and dragged the hanger slowly across Josh's throat, tearing into the neck, merely listening to the muscles as they ripped and were pulled through his throat, all while the boy stood there, stunned.

As Gryffon's arm fell back to his side, the Career dropped to the ground and shook out of his temporary paralysis. Gryffon curled his toes into the grass as it warmed and he watched as the boy's blood pooled over his feet and his gurgling filled the air, his gasping, his silent pleas.

BOOM

"Thirteen dead."

Now. Only now was Josh dead. Only now did he really fall and die. Only now could Jay say anything about him dying . . . But now she didn't need him . . ?

"Thirteen . . . " His jaw muscles were tense and he could just barely open his eyes; he tried to wipe the blood from his eyes, but it did nothing to ease the ache in his jaw or face, it only made it hurt more.

"Th-the girl's dead, too," Jay choked some feet away from him, probably standing shakily on her feet. Gryffon didn't even look at her, he didn't acknowledge her. He knew if he did, he'd just repeat what he did with the 4 boy. He just wanted her away for now. Just . . .

Gryffon stepped over Josh's body and just managed to walk through the ferns half-blind and waded into the river by dragging his feet over the pebbles. He let the water reach his knees before he crouched down, pretty much dropping down and letting the cold water run over his dirty form.

Oh how much he just wanted to . . .

Gryffon bit his lip and forced his palms open, facing down toward the water. The hanger balanced and stayed steady and floating by hooking around a finger, but slowly Gryffon turned his palms up, and the thing slipped off with the current and traveled down the river. Hardly a loss . . . He could always just go back and get the scissors . . . Or raid the packs . . .

Not just a plunger, no. Scissors . . .

He rubbed his fingers together and passed a hand over the other, gently scrubbing everything, every bit of soil, every drop of blood off his hands. He even rubbed the center of his hand hard to try to remove the indents the metal hanger had left in his palm, trying to remove all traces of his own blood and the boy's, trying to get rid of the scent before it affected him too much. Before what was left of his vision was blotted out by darkness again.

Gryffon cupped water into his hands and splashed it over his face repeatedly. He winced when his fingers touched the left part of his face, and he had to work around it until he worked up the courage to just spill water over it.

He stared hard into the water as he did this, analyzing every drop of red sliding off his jaw and into the river, tainting it red until the gashes could be seen. Josh had cut into him from his cheek to the very curve of his jaw and had managed to get Gryffon right above it, creating a bruise that was already starting to make it harder for him to open his left eye.

As he glided his fingers over the cuts, the flesh tender and stinging, Gryffon heard the ferns rustle and his glare hardened again. "You're a hypocrite, Jay," he claimed, still just looking at himself through the reddened water.

It was all just going to bubble over . . . All that scarlet water . . .

"Gryff' - "

"You're a fucking hypocrite, Jay!" he announced, tearing his eyes away from the river. "Aren't you?"

"No, Gryffon, you wouldn't have - "

"Wasn't he dead!? Wasn't that a lie you told? Isn't that what you're always claiming!? Congrats, you played innocent little - "

"Gryffon, shut up!"

He stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded. Shut up? Shut up!? She was out of her mind! "You're - !"

Ding
Ding
Ding

He glanced up, watching as a not-so-little bundle drifted down, settling into the water in front of him, and attached to the overly large parachute was a little note, but he did nothing more but flick his eyes toward it, kept it steady in front of him, and turned his attention back to Jay.

"What is it? What did Annabelle send?"

"A bedazzled clipper for her pretty little bird," Gryffon growled.

Jay gritted her teeth and took a step back, gripping the bloodied shaving razor she had supposedly killed the 4 girl with.

And a shaving razor, too . . . Not just a plunger.

"Gryffon, you wouldn't have listened any other way . . . You wouldn't have stayed . . . "

"Keep chirping, mockingjay."

"Gryff', he helped me. He wasn't supposed to hang around, he wasn't - "

"Supposed to live? Like me, right? You use everyone's help to save your precious little self, then what!? Expect them to just die!?"

"Gryff', I wouldn't have been able to pull you out without him and Coral! They swam, they helped, I couldn't - "

"I don't care."

Even that. Even that she had lied about. No wonder she had looked so nervous. Go figure. She was too selfish to care . . . She was always too selfish to care . . . She wouldn't know, or even begin to understand, the sacrifice he was making for her . . . If he had known, he would have never . . . But how could she have known? It wasn't her fault, it wasn't . . .

But reason spoke to no one.

"Gryff', I helped you, I did, and I will, and I - "

"I don't care, I said I don't care."

Jay hesitated another few steps, shaking her head, staring at him like some wounded animal. She hadn't helped . . . She dragged him down these paths . . . He didn't have to go there, he didn't even have to be there . . .

If his father had just shot her instead of her father that day . . . No, if she had just listened!

"You're breaking your promise, Gryff' . . . You promised me, Gryff' . . . " she stammered, feet stumbling over each other as she tried to push herself farther and farther away.

"Cool."

And she was breaking hers to Alick. She was breaking her loyalty, she was lying and turning her back on everything . . . He wasn't going to help her, he wasn't going to be led on.

Jay waited another few seconds, her eyes just barely concentrating on him, but she saw all Gryffon would do is glare. He wouldn't move, wouldn't speak, until she left. Until she moved.

And so be it.

She turned from his emotionless stare and ran up the river, probably to some secret escape tunnel the Careers had showed her, or something. Probably.

He ran a hand over his face, biting his tongue to hold back a yelp when his hand roughly hit the wounds. Gryffon was just so ready to give up . . .

But he did have a promise to uphold.

He'd just have to catch up. Or maybe he'd have to stop making mistakes. She shouldn't have ran. He should have kept her there.

"Fuck it," Gryffon scoffed, looking down at the parachute and its note.

I'm still bored.
- D