『 𝗧𝗢𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗛𝗘𝗥 𝗪𝗘 𝗕𝗨𝗥𝗡 』𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Victors

TRIGGER WARNING: BLOOD, VIOLENCE, GRUESOME SCENES, AND DEATH.

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Muttations. No question about it. You've never seen these mutts, but they're no natural-born animals. They resemble huge wolves, but what wolf lands and then balances easily on its hind legs? These things you can see at a distance. Up close, you're sure their more menacing attributes will be revealed.

Cato has made a beeline for the Cornucopia, and without question you follow him. If he thinks it's the safest place, who are you to argue? Besides, even if you could make it to the trees, it would be impossible for Peeta to outrun them on that leg — Peeta! Your hands have just landed on the metal at the pointed tail of the Cornucopia when you remember you're part of a team. He's about fifteen yards behind you, hobbling as fast as he can, but the mutts are closing in on him fast. You send a knife into the pack and one goes down, but there are plenty to take its place.

You feel awful for forgetting about him and you start to take another knife from your belt to help him but he starts waving you up the horn, " Go, Y/n! Go!"

He's right. You can't protect either of you on the ground. You start climbing, scaling the Cornucopia on your hands and feet. The pure gold surface has been designed to resemble the woven horn that you fill at harvest, so there are little ridges and seams to get a decent hold on. But after a day in the arena sun, the metal feels hot enough to blister your hands.

Cato lies on his side at the very top of the horn, twenty feet above the ground, gasping to catch his breath as he gags over the edge. Now's your chance to finish him off. You stop midway up the horn and slip another knife from your belt, but just as you're about to swing, you hear Peeta cry out. You twist around and see he's just reached the tail, and the mutts are right on his heels.

"Shit, Peeta, climb!" You yell. Peeta starts up hampered by not only the leg but the knife in his hand. You throw your knife down the throat of the first mutt that places its paws on the metal. As it dies the creature lashes out, inadvertently opening gashes on a few of its companions. That's when you get a look at the claws. Four inches and clearly razor-sharp.

Peeta reaches your feet and you're fast to grab his arm and pull him along. Then you remember Cato waiting at the top and whip around, but he's doubled over with cramps and apparently more preoccupied with the mutts than you and Peeta. He coughs out something unintelligible. The snuffling, growling sound coming from the mutts isn't helping.

"What?" You shout at him.

"He said, 'Can they climb it?'" answers Peeta, drawing your focus back to the base of the horn.

The mutts are beginning to assemble. As they join together, they raise up again to stand easily on their back legs giving them an eerily human quality. Each has a thick coat, some with fur that is straight and sleek, others curly, and the colors vary from jet black to what you can only describe as blond. There's something else about them, something that makes the hair rise up on the back of your neck, but you can't put your finger on it.

They put their snouts on the horn, sniffing and tasting the metal, scraping paws over the surface and then making high-pitched yipping sounds to one another. This must be how they communicate because the pack backs up as if to make room. Then one of them, a good-size mutt with silky waves of blond fur takes a running start and leaps onto the horn. Its back legs must be incredibly powerful because it lands a mere ten feet below you and Peeta, its pink lips pulled back in a snarl. For a moment it hangs there, and in that moment you realize what else unsettled you about the mutts. The green eyes glowering at you are unlike any dog or wolf, any canine you've ever seen. They are unmistakably human. And that revelation has barely registered when you notice the collar with the number 1 inlaid with jewels and the whole horrible thing hits you. The blonde hair, the green eyes, the number ... it's Glimmer.