The Hunger Games: Staying True. (Completed)

Chapter Nineteen; Wolves Howl. [Edited]

Six days pass, but they're not uneventful.

I spend days wandering, searching for Chaim, making my way slowly onward. I quickly leave behind District 8, and I soon find out that District 7 isn't just full of very huge, very pretty trees, it's also packed full of very dangerous creatures.

The foxes are gone - thank the stars - but the deer aren't friendly, the moose - huge, hulking creatures that charge at any opportunity - are hard to outrun, wolves howl all through the night, some trees are full of bats that enjoy biting, and there's even bear prints all through the place.

I think about heading back into 8, but it's likely that Chaim headed into this District. I've decided to make my way as best I can through all of them, leaving directions for Chaim in my path just in case he stumbles across my trail.

My only plan of action is to just scour the entire arena; Chaim hasn't been in the sky yet, so I'm hoping he's fallen under the protection of another kind tribute or found some good hiding spot. At the very least, perhaps I can find some sort of sign of him somewhere and discover him by chance. It's the only thing I can think of to do, and at the very least, it gives me a purpose.

If I didn't have Chaim to look for, I might just curl up on my side and sleep until I'm dead.

On the second day of being in District 7, it's pretty clear that I'm being followed. Not by a human, but by an animal. A great grey wolf, larger than what would seem natural, shadows me silently for the majority of the day.

I keep a wary eye out, but it never wanders close enough that I feel truly panicked. It stays a fair distance away, and I spot it cresting hills behind me, or pacing river banks after I wade through them, or just a flash of grey fur through the dense, thick trees.

I run out of any good food on my seventh day of being alone; I only have scraps remaining, just a few packets of dried fruit, one tin of pineapples. Zephyr took half of my food, and while the majority of it was probably wasted, I hope she had a good last meal before she died.

So that evening, I kill a small female deer.

I feel bad, killing such a gentle and docile creature, but a girl's gotta eat.

It doesn't take me long to track down a small herd, and then only takes me moments to spot the smallest and weakest of the group. Soon, a throwing knife is in my hand and flying free, and it buries deep in the doe's side with a dull thud.

The rest of the herd bolts, not bothering to aid it's fallen member.

She gives a guttural cry of pain, but I'm quick to end her suffering. A swift swipe across her jugular and she's gone, kicking a few last times.

With a grimace, I set about cutting away what pieces are most useful. Some of the trainers back in the Capitol taught me how to skin an animal, and what pieces were good to eat and what ones to avoid. Even how to climb inside an animal and sleep there if it got too cold.

I sure as hell won't be doing that.

But I'll be needing the meat.

Skinning and gutting it would be easier if I strung it up, but I don't have time to rig a harness from a tree. Mostly because I know that any predator worth running from will be heading here pretty damn sharpish.

Soon my hands are coated in blood and I'm sweating a little, but at least I feel like I'm doing something. This is efficient, this will feed me. Yes, I killed something, but this will give me sustenance, at least this is almost... Productive.

At least I'm not watching someone die.

It's at that moment, just as I begin to smile, that the wolf appears across the clearing.