Against the Odds (A Crossmare Fanfiction)

Sunrise

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Sunlight was just starting to stream through the leaves of the trees when Cross woke up.

He let out a soft groan, his arms lifting to rub at his eyes sockets gently. He let out a sleepy hum, looking around groggily in confusion. Why did his back ache? What was the tight feeling around his waist? Why were there branches around him? And why was he so high up?

And then he remembered, instantly jolting and gripping onto the rough bark of the trunk behind him in a moment of panic. He was still up in the tree. And he hadn't fallen off or died in the night.

A soft sigh of relief escaped him and he smiled ever so slightly. He'd done it. He'd survived day one in the arena. Now he just had to survive day two, then day three, then day four and so on until the end. Hopefully.

The rope had stayed fixed tightly round his waist like he hoped and had prevented him from leaning over in his sleep and plummeting to the ground. The sleeping bag had kept his bottom half warm, and though his top half felt a little chilly, he felt generally alright. That was if he ignored the slight hunger for food and something to drink. That would be his priority today.

But for now he decided to just appreciate the view for a moment. This forest was nothing like his forest at home. He was used to hunting in greenery and fresh green leaves. But here all the leaves were starting to be stained beautiful shades of yellow, orange, red, purple and brown. The colours were rich and prominent against the dark bark of the trees, making them stand out perfectly. The sun streamed through gaps in the trees, illuminating the leaves with a golden angelic glow. The rays even reached the floor, dappled across the messy floor and looking like little splashes of sunshine paint. It really did take his breath away.

After about five minutes of just relaxing and staring at his surroundings, Cross decided that now was probably a good time to get down and checking his snares for any food. Then he'd try find water.

He cautiously untied the rope from around his waist, hissing through his gritted teeth every time he shifted a little bit. Eventually he got it off, and managed to stuff it back into his rucksack - which was still hanging from the branch - without falling off. Then he eased himself out of the black sleeping bag. His knuckles were sore from how hard he was gripping onto the trunk behind him. Once it was rolled up and shoved back into the bag he relaxed a bit, giving himself a moment to catch his breath.

Sleeping up in a tree was great for if you didn't want to get spotted, but horrible for nerves, your back, comfiness and practicality. But he was probably going to stick to it.

Once he was sure he'd put everything in his bag, he slung it over his shoulder and cautiously started to descend.

But of course as soon as he did that, he heard voices.

Cross froze, pressing himself right up against the trunk of the tree and glancing about, his fingers and shoes digging into the bark to get a grip.

In the distance two distinctly female voices ringing out and coming in his direction.

Panicking, he climbed a bit further up so that he could grip onto an out sticking branch with his hands before his fingers snapped off. His soul was already pounding in his chest, feeling trapped in his rib cage. He desperately tried to calm his breathing as the two girls came into sight.

It was the two from District Seven. Rachie and Magic. That's what he thought they were called.

They both held spears, over their backs, two long daggers held in each hand. One of them had their hair tied messily back while the other kept her's down. They were talking softly to each other, talking about possible targets.