May The Odds Be Ever In Our Favour {PurplePhone | Hunger Games}

Two.

A sound. Scott flinched, instantly gripping onto Vincent's arm and hugging him close. "Can't we go into the trees?" he hissed, "There could be other tributes down here! Worse, what if the Gamemakers have sent some crazy wild dog to attack us!?"

"I don't think so," Vincent replied coolly. "The Gamemakers have no reason to interfere. They have all the drama they want, what with our alliance going on, and plus, killing one of us off just ruins the fun for later, don't you think?"

Scott froze, suddenly letting go of Vincent's arm and stepping away, putting a little distance between them. That was right. No matter how you looked at this, only one of them was going back home to their district. And it wasn't Scott.

"So," Vincent drew out the 'o' as they jumped over a stray tree trunk. "I'm guessing you didn't volunteer to get here, huh?"

Scott knew Vincent was just trying to be polite - maybe even make a joke out of their situation - but the memory of Reaping Day was unbearably painful. When he'd been called out, the entire District had taken a short gasp. Their mayor had cleared her throat, and muttered, "Well, I guess District 11 won't be having a victor this year... Oh well, at least we have a female tribute to rely on!" She'd added, with a light laugh.

Scott had been greeted by silence as he tiptoed up to the stage, standing with hunched shoulders next to the girl tribute, someone he'd hardly talked with. Everyone looked up at the skinny, fragile, naïve, wide-eyed boy sceptically. There were no nods of approval, no cries of, "No, I won't let him go!"

Just silence, and the incessant murmur of incredulous whispering. People betting that he would be the first to die at the Cornucopia.

"No," Scott said shortly. "I didn't volunteer. How about you?"

Vincent cleared his throat, "Touchy subject, huh? I didn't either. Someone else volunteered to take my place, though."

"Really?" Scott asked, looking at Vincent. "Why... why didn't they choose him?"

"Because I knocked him out," Vincent replied simply, shrugging.

Scott was suddenly reminded of his situation: buddied up with one of Panem's most vicious psychopaths, where he would be murdered in a matter of days. "Oh," he squeaked.

"What district are you from?" Vincent asked, reaching into his pack and pulling out a packet of dried meat. After seeing Scott's gaping mouth, he threw him a few strips, which Scott caught.

"Eleven," Scott replied, stuffing the food in his mouth. He'd had nothing but berries and roots for days. Meat tasted so good. "Agriculture."

"Ohh," Vincent nodded his head as if putting two pieces together. "That's why you're so good in trees, and with picking the right foods to eat. I would never have noticed you up in that tree - if only you weren't so clumsy on land," Vincent chuckled.

Scott blinked slightly, "How did you know I was there, then? How long have you known I was following you?"

"For a while," Vincent kicked aside someone's broken spear. "I only saw you on land. At first I thought you were just passing by me. You looked so alarmed, so... childish - no offense - that I decided to let you go. Figured you weren't worth the waste of energy. After that, though, I kept noticing things. Just little things. Things like leaves swishing on breezeless nights. I figured someone was following me, so one day, I laid out my supply pack out in the open, pretending to go fill up my water bottle."

"You did that on purpose?" Scott asked, his eyes widening. "I just thought you were an idiot! Uh, no offense."

Vincent laughed, "You're lucky I like you, kid. Well, anyway, I watched you come down from the trees and steal the food. The perfect amount - if I hadn't seen you I wouldn't have noticed it was missing. That was when I decided you'd be useful to have around."

Scott was about to reply when a twig snapped from behind them both. Their loud talking had attracted another tribute. Scott turned to see the girl from District 2. She was a huge brute of a thing. She had no weapon.

She didn't need one.

"Hon, do me a favour and scuttle up to your little bird's nest, won't you?" Vincent purred almost sweetly. It took a moment for Scott to realise he was talking to him. "I've got another kill to put against my name."

Perplexed - and intimidated - by Vincent's change in attitude, Scott needed no further encouragement. He dodged to miss a flying punch from District 2 and began climbing the nearest tree. He didn't scale too high; he somehow knew Vincent wasn't going to lose this fight easily.

The girl from District 2 was ten times as fierce as Vincent was; built like a truck. Somehow, that seemed to give Vincent the advantage, though. Before long, he'd produced a long dagger out of his travelling cloak and was darting around behind her, leaving teasing slices down her sides. Blood dripped from his dagger, and littered the forest floor.

Just stab her already! Scott felt himself becoming sick. He looked away, screwing his eyes shut, not caring if the whole of Panem was laughing at how wimpy he looked. Why draw it out?

In the end, the girl decided it was not ending well for her. She tried to run. It took about three steps before she fell to her knees, looking unnaturally pale as blood pooled around her, staining the leaf litter. Scott opened his eyes warily and looked back at the scene, hoping Vincent would at least finish her off nicely.

Vincent chuckled, walking around to drop on his knees in front of her, "Now, now, what's that frightened look for?" His voice was eerily smooth, and slightly higher pitched than normal. He lifted up his knife and made two cuts, from each corner of the girl's mouth up to her ear in a horrifying smile. The girl didn't even have the energy to scream.

"Hm~" Vincent pushed the girl back onto the leaf-litter, and raised his knife.

Scott squeaked and looked away quickly, hugging to the tree as he heard a canon shooting in the air.