Tybalt Alistair Martell, 18
Catching sight of the tribute was the most relief Tybalt had since entering the Arena. Tributes were prey, prey that deserved to be slaughtered. And this one was reassuringly stupid. She had scrambled up a pile of steep rocks culminating in a cliff overlooking a broad stretch of river. That meant she knew they were coming and tried to run away, only to back herself into a corner. It was going to be an easy kill.
The Careers gave chase. Catching things was a Career's strong suit, after all, aside from killing them. "Let's surround her," shouted Tybalt.
"And lose our advantage? We should attack all at once," Nikita countered.
"Shut up and run," Odicci said crossly. It was unclear who she was irritated with, but Tybalt was happy to concentrate on the task at hand. He was in the lead, pressing up the incline with his machete in hand.
"Stop right there." Aspen slithered out from behind a slick boulder. She did not limp. She carried a spear. She looked like she knew how to use it.
"That's my spear!"
"Not anymore. You're here to kill me, right?" Aspen surveyed the gathered Career Pack.
"Yes," Tybalt informed her.
"Then do it." Aspen ducked back under the rock. There were fast footfalls. She was moving in the warren of rock. Nikita followed her, carrying a fresh spear of his own. Tybalt tried to head towards the cliff's edge to cut her off, only to find his feet spill out from under him. Oof. He had gotten too confident and forgot the ground was wet and slippery.
Odicci was somewhere in the distance, trying to back up Nikita, who was shouting something angry and rude.
Tybalt saw his opportunity, and broke into a run. It was unwise for a short-ranged Career to end up in a finale with a longer-ranged Career. Nikita had been emotionally volatile and had been sniping at Tybalt all day. This was his chance to run while he had the chance.
He carefully abandoned the cliff and headed east, away from the Career camp. There were no cannons. Night fell. He realized he had no water or food, with no way of getting any aside from the river, and he wasn't about to drink unpurified Arena water. It was cold up here, and he didn't want to risk trying to start a fire, not that he really knew how.
He had fucked up so fucking bad. His father was going to kill him. His father was going to wait for him to die, rush him to the Capitol to be brought back to life, and kill him all over again. And give him the beating of a lifetime.
If only Antonius Treek could see him now.
He found a slightly less frigid cluster of trees and slept, plagued by nightmares. When he woke, there was a girl sitting on his chest.
"Good morning," she said.
"I know you're there, Karen. Pick up the phone."
Karen DuMouchel looked warily at the receiver on the cradle. Karen did not pick up the phone.
"Come on, Karen. We don't have all day. Answer Mother when she calls."
Karen did not pick up the phone.
"Pick up the fucking phone," Konstance snapped. Reflexively, Karen picked up the phone.
"Mother."
"It's about time. Sweetheart, you know I only want the best for you. I'd hate to see you dead when the Capitol falls."
"The Capitol will not fall," said Karen flatly.
"Come talk to me. I wasn't the best to you, growing up. I know that, baby, I know. But this is a chance for us to make it right. I'm so worried for my little girl. Just let me collect you. I'll send my soldiers to collect you at a rendezvous point. Let me talk to you one last time."
This was a trap, and she knew it. But Konstance was her mother. And she so desperately needed to believe her.
"Okay," she said. "I'll go. Does lunch work for you?"
:D