to win - haymitch abernathy

⁷² 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒𝓁𝑒𝓉 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶 𝓈𝑒𝒸𝓇𝑒𝓉

Rosemary felt the tendrils of consciousness weaving back into her being, like fragile threads stitching together the fabric of her existence. The cool water splashing against her face, courtesy of Katniss' gentle ministrations, was like a balm, soothing away the feverish haze that had clouded her senses. As the rashes on her skin faded into nothingness, she could feel the oppressive weight of pain slowly relinquishing its grip, though a residual shiver still danced along her spine, a reminder of the ordeal she had endured.

In the distance, the rhythmic thud of Peeta's hammer driving the spile into a tree echoed through the forest, a sound that seemed to resonate within her parched throat, stirring a primal thirst. Beside her, Finnick was diligent in his efforts to rid himself of the affliction that had beset them, his actions mirroring her own as they both sought solace in the cleansing embrace of the water.

"I'm sorry about Mags," Katniss' voice cut through the ambient sounds of the forest, drawing a momentary pause from Finnick's task.

"She was never gonna make it," Finnick's reply was tinged with a hint of defiance, a facade of strength that barely masked the sorrow lurking beneath the surface. Rosemary could sense the weight of his grief, a burden he carried with stoic determination.

Her attention was diverted by Katniss' sudden movement, the rustle of fabric as she retrieved an arrow from her quiver sending a ripple of anticipation through the air. Following the trajectory of her gaze, Rosemary's eyes settled upon the creature that stood before them, its piercing gaze a silent challenge.

With cautious movements, Rosemary rose to her feet, acutely aware of the primal instincts stirring within the depths of her being. Another figure emerged from the shadows, its presence a harbinger of impending danger.

"What?" Finnick's voice betrayed his confusion, a silent plea for understanding midst the uncertainty that loomed before them. Rosemary turned slowly, her gaze sweeping across the landscape, only to be met with the unsettling sight of monkeys converging from every direction.

"This is not happening," she murmured, her fingers tightening around the hilt of her machete, a tangible anchor midst the rising tide of chaos. Beside her, Finnick armed himself with his trident, his stance one of wary readiness as the tension in the air thickened.

"Peeta?" Katniss' voice sliced through the silence, a lifeline in the midst of uncertainty.

"Yeah?" Peeta's response was tinged with apprehension as he turned to face the source of Katniss' concern.

"Walk over here slowly," Katniss' instructions were measured, her tone betraying the gravity of the situation. Peeta complied, his movements deliberate as he faced off against the encroaching horde of monkeys, their primal screams echoing through the forest like a symphony of impending doom.

"Get to the beach," The urgency in Katniss' voice reverberated through the dense canopy of the rain forest, each word a directive laced with the gravity of their predicament. Rosemary's gaze darted towards the distant shoreline, a beacon of fleeting hope midst the labyrinth of towering trees. Yet, before they could even begin their desperate retreat, the relentless tide of monkeys surged forth, a living barrier blocking their path and sealing their fate within this verdant prison.

With a sharp intake of breath, Katniss notched an arrow, her steady hands betraying the turmoil that raged within. Rosemary tightened her grip on her machete, its weight a familiar reassurance in the face of impending danger, bracing herself for the inevitable clash that loomed on the horizon. As the first screech pierced the air, Peeta sprang into action, his movements a blur as he intercepted a charging monkey with a swift, decisive strike.