Here's a little fic about Wovey, the most adorable little cinnamon roll in the 10th Hunger Games! I've used the movie version of her death because it worked better with my theme of children's games. Sofia Sanchez made her character unforgettable for me, and how I've written her is largely inspired by her portrayal. I'm so glad Wovey's finally an available character to list on FF dot net!
Disclaimer: I don't own The Hunger Games.
Wovey wasn't fast, or smart, or good at fighting. You didn't learn anything that could help you fight in the factories in District 8. But there were two things Wovey knew she was a master at: climbing and fitting into small spaces. She'd done plenty of both in the factory ever since she was ten. Her small hands were needed to fit into the tiny gaps in between the machines where the other workers' couldn't. She was a critical piece in the factory—-the smallest, but most necessary cog, as the foreman called her.
Her job meant she had dropped out of school, but she didn't mind that much. She had never felt like she belonged with the other kids in the classroom anyway. They all made fun of her—-"Why does your face look so weird?" "You talk funny!" Then there was that one time when Mason Idja, the resident bully, had called her—-something that began with the letter r. Wovey didn't understand what that meant. When she asked her mama about it, she had only shook her head and told Wovey that her differences made her unique, and to never let anyone tell her otherwise.
No one commented on Wovey's differences in the factory. Maybe that was because she was just a cog in the machine, but she still preferred work to school. Except for when the air in the weaving room got hot and stuffy. And sometimes when she had to climb really close to fast-churning gears to replace spools of thread, and she thought she was going to go deaf from the racket.
She never got claustrophobic. That's why she was perfect for her job, which often required her to maneuver her small body around and in between the gaps in the machines. It reminded her of when she was littler, and all the kids her age would play hide-and-seek. Wovey was always the best; being the smallest, she was always the last one found. The seeker had to call out the phrase that signaled they had given up—-"Olly olly oxen free!"-and only then would she reveal herself.
The tunnels and piles of rubble created by the bombing had presented many hiding places for her. And hiding was what she did best. She'd stayed in the passageways under the stadium seats for five days. The only downside to her strategy was the lack of food. She was finally forced to emerge from the tunnels to look for something.
She ended up being found by Mizzen instead. He pointed her out to Coral. Time to run, Wovey thought.
But every single tribute left in the Games stopped in their tracks when a hovercraft descended through the opening in the stadium roof and deposited a glass tank in the center of the arena. The kids looked at it curiously. Was this some kind of mass sponsor gift?
Wovey stepped closer. Maybe this thing would take them all home. She'd been hiding in the tunnels for days. This was a new hide-and-seek record for her. And now the tank—-it must be the signal that the Games had ended—-the Capitol was shouting, "Olly olly oxen free!" Wovey went to stand directly in front of the tank. She was ready to go home.
Reaper's warning came too late. The glass sides fell away and dozens of neon rainbow snakes lunged out at her, their fangs like hypodermic needles. As streaks of pink, blue, and yellow pus ran down her body, Wovey realized she had been playing the wrong game. This wasn't hide-and-seek. This was murder in the dark.