The 49th Hunger Games

Day 3: Tyger and Nightlock

I silently cheer as my knife lodges into the neck fur of a strange rodent creature. I don't really hunt much at home, unless I'm keeping mice or rabbits or rats off of the fields. I work quite a lot in the crops in District 9. I'm not too stirred by Saoirse's death. I just look at it as one less person I'll have to kill in the end. I'm not too worried about Careers yet, being as I haven't seen a single tribute since the Games started. I ran into the valley, but I think I ran farther than anyone else, being as it's silent except for a few small creatures and birds. I'm at the stream's source, where it bubbles up between two rocks, and I've been sleeping in a small, tree-lined hollow. 

Upon looking at the creature, I realise it's no normal animal, as much as it looks like a rabbit from afar. The fur feels slightly plastic-y, and it's eyes are the colour of blood. It has white claws, curved and long. The worst part; it has fangs at least an inch long. One word comes to mind; mutt. I drop the thing upon picking it up and shudder, kicking it away. 

Now I sigh, my small triumph of catching something squashed. I'm about to continue with hunting when I hear a small noise, almost like gravel being scraped on glass.

My eyes widen, and I turn to see one of the rabbit mutts glaring at me, with almost human emotions in its harsh red eyes.

"Oh my gosh." I mutter, knowing almost instantly that I shouldn't have. As soon as the words escape my mouth, at least 20 of the scary rabbit mutts are charging at me, releasing battle cries that seem to be part-growls, part-tuts and part-shrieks. I don't know what to do, I'm sure if I run they'll chase me, but if I stay still I'm dead meat anyway. 

I turn and pelt as fast as I can, sprinting for an Aspen that seems big enough to hold my weight. I'm betting they can climb trees too, but I suppose the tiny little shred of I hope I have that they can't is better than certain death on the ground. When I'm up there, they do worse than climb the tree. I almost throw up when I see the one at the front make a sound like laughter as it sticks out a sword-like claw and starts sawing through the trunk. Sawing. Through the trunk.

I close my eyes, gulping, ready for my cannon. But it doesn't come, and I don't feel the sickening swaying motion of a falling tree. Instead, I hear a grating screech that makes me want to tear my ears off, but when I open my eyes, the rabbit-mutts are backing away from something. I dig my fingers into my tree trunk and lean my head a little, looking to the ground. 

"What did you just do?" I ask, shocked to see a boy wielding an axe and a dead rabbit-mutt by his feet.  His expression is almost casual. 

"Oh, that? I saw one of these things yesterday. De-freaking-capitated that thing." he drags his finger along his neck and nods. I can't help but raise an eyebrow at his cocky confidence. "I just saw like...a million of them from my hideout. I was going to try and kill them all, being as they got so close to where I'm staying here. But.." he looks behind him and shrugs, "It seems I don't have to. Cowardly things. I suppose they have a leader-follower kind of disposition."

I nod slowly, cautiously climbing down legs first. "What District?" 

"Seven. You're nine, right?" 

I nod, now more assured of him. I frown, "Yeah. Sorry about your District partner...you know..." I pull the same motion as he did, dragging my finger along my neck.

"Hey, it's okay. One less to kill right? Sorry about yours."

"Like you said, one less to kill." I say, dropping to the ground just left of the mutt carcass. "Nice job saving my ass by the way."

"Heh," he twirls his axe, still acting cockily. "I didn't even notice you there. I just didn't want those things getting me off guard." 

He's intelligent. That much is obvious. But intelligent means not to be associated with. When your ally is cleverer than you, it can never end well. With a final nod, I turn around and walk off, sliding my knife out of my belt and flipping it once in my hand just to make a statement.