One of the worst experiences in the arena is to be chased.
To know something wants to kill you and is bearing down behind you is terrifying. The heart pumping agony of knowing any misstep will be your last mistake never leaves your mind. It physically, mentally, and spiritually hurts.
Unfortunately three tributes allying together in a patch of damp woods of the thirty-first Hunger Games found themselves racing at breakneck speed away from foes. As usual the careers were hunting, and sadly they had caught the trio's scent.
The fastest of which was the lightest, little Emmaline of district eight. She spent her time as a courier of fabric for a textile works, so speed was exactly her thing. Behind her was Susie of district three and her own district partner, Thread.
Emmaline was not used to protruding roots or low hanging branches while she ran though. She was used to weaving between people on the streets. Yet she led the way, keeping up with the environment and leaping over any challenge with surprising grace. The noise of water coursing slowly along a river was barely registered by her so Emmaline only just managed to stumble to a stop by the bank, narrowly missing falling in.
She arrived before her two comrades so Emma surveyed the scene ahead of them while catching her breath. Fifteen to twenty feet between the banks, she surmised. The rocks looked rough in spite of glistening with moisture. She knew they would be a tough crossing, especially slippery with all that green moss on top.
As Emmaline shifted a little down the bank a plan began forming in her mind. They could escape the careers by running across the rocks. Maybe follow the river down a ways, stick within the trees so the careers would not know which direction to head in. That sounded about a good as planed any so, reinvigorated by her strategy, the lithe girl stepped onto the first rock with an uncertain wobble. It was grey and steady, but so uneven on top, and such an odd feeling to her.
For the first time she missed the cracked sidewalks of district eight.
Emmaline extended both arms outwards, looking like she was doing an impression of a preflight bird. The girl bent her knees with care, jumping to the next stone. There was a definite wobble but she kept herself upright and out of the steadily moving, murky water.
Ahead the next stones were even mossier, with no slate coloring visible at all. Emmaline took care while readying herself for the next jump. This time her knees buckled and she swore the rock was not so steady.
Noises on the shore caused her to turn, throwing a hopeful grin to her pair of comrades. "We can use these stepping stones to get across!"
Emmaline turned back, assuming the horror on their faces was due to the careers breathing down their necks. When Thread bellowed her name the stubborn girl just grunted, "Hurry up guys!"
She landed on the next rock and wobbled sideways, nearly falling. Then her knees jerked as her entire body felt movement. The rock beneath her sunk down a little. Now that Emmaline nervously looked more closely at her feet she realized there was no moss. It was green leathery, scaled flesh.
The movement was the creature awakening from the pressure of her weight on top of its back.
A moment later the water was growing bloody where Emmaline was seconds ago as the crocodiles fell into a frenzy to devour her.
