canyon wind- lamina x fem!oc

the night sky

  Sylvia only gets a few hours of sleep before an out of place sound wakes her up.  The silence the enclosure and the sound of the wind blowing through the trees is broken by the muffled sound of sobbing, followed by footsteps.  She opens her eyes, taking her hat off of her face and taking a few moments to really wake up. 

  Once she's coherent enough to pinpoint what's going on around her, she sits up and waits for her eyes to adjust to the dark.  The lights along the zoo path outside the enclosure are still on, and the peacekeepers that have taken up guarding them from outside are nowhere to be seen.  Maybe they were on a break, or maybe they were switching shifts.  

  Those details pale in comparison when she finds the source of the noise.  Off to the side, a few yards from her, Lamina sits on the ground underneath one of the trees.  Her knees are pulled up to her chest and her face is buried in them, shoulders shaking as she sobs quietly.  

  Sylvia's standing before she can think about it, leaving her hat near Tanner as she approaches Lamina.  She makes sure to start making noise with her feet once she gets close- an unnecessarily loud shuffling along the leaves that has Lamina looking up abruptly.  Sylvia's eyebrows furrow in worry as she kneels in front of the girl, her knees pressing into the ground through her skirt.  

  "Hey,"  She mutters softly, "What's goin' on?"  She keeps her voice soft, not wanting to scare Lamina or make her anxiety peak even more than it is.  Reaching forward, she moves to hold Lamina's wrists, pausing to make sure it's okay.  When the other girl makes no move to pull back, she gently grabs her wrists, rubbing her thumbs over Lamina's palms.  

  Lamina takes a moment, the tears streaming silently down her face as her lip trembles.  "I just-"  her hands move, grabbing onto Sylvia's hands and squeezing them like its her lifeline.  She sobs, her shoulders shaking as her whole head drops, "I don't wanna be here." She mutters helplessly, sobbing.  

  Sylvia releases a shaky breath, her whole demeanor changing.  She lets go of Lamina's hands, moving to sit directly next to the red head.  She wraps one of her arms around her waist, the other coming up to card through Lamina's hair as she cries.  As if on impulse, Lamina lets her head fall to Sylvia's shoulders, crying into her shawl.  Sylvia doesn't mind in the slightest, brushing her fingers through Lamina's auburn hair and rubbing her hand over her back.  

  "I know, I know." She mutters, because she can't really think of anything else to say.  None of them want to be here- none of them deserve to be here.  But unfortunately, they are.  And although Sylvia would do anything to make it otherwise, it doesn't change the fact that she can't.  There's nothing she can do except try and comfort Lamina as she sobs.

  Sylvia's always know she was empathetic.  It started with the tattoos of her kills, a sort of remembrance for them... an act of grievance, maybe.  It increased when she was reaped, her morals and empathy overriding her survival instincts.  But now, with Lamina crying into her shoulder, it feels like the other girl's sorrow is seeping into her bones, into her very person.  She feels tears in her eyes, and she's more surprised than not when a few of them streak down her cheeks.  She's quick to wipe them away with her thumb, then moving her hand back to Lamina's hair, trying to comfort her.  

  Part of her wants Lamina to win.  It's a big part, admittedly.  But then that would mean the other tributes dying.  It would mean sweet little Dill and Mizzen dying, and Tanner, and Treech, and Coral, and Reaper.  In the end, Sylvia doesn't want to think about it.  She doesn't want to consider it.  And a small, selfish part of her is glad that she's probably going to die early on so that she won't have to deal with any of that hurt or guilt.      

  She wishes they could all go home.  Some childlike part of her imagines someone coming and rescuing them.  Rebels taking out the peacekeepers and whisking them all away to some secret rebel base where they'll never have to worry about the capitol again.  She imagines them all living in a community where the games are just a bad memory and never spoken of again.