The 25th Hunger Games

Day 7 and 8

He put some thought into this one. "I...Yeah. Except I punched a mirror on the tribute's train and had to get stitches..."

"I'm not sure if that's surprising or not." Overall, though, I didn't think much of this. Although this guy clearly had some anger, there was none I couldn't relate to. "And here all I did was get stabbed."

"I saw that scar," Emmit said. I could feel his eyes on my cheek as I stared at the ice, not daring to make eye contact. I thought about Anita lunging at me by surprise and wondered how many other tributes I would managed to push off of me and how many would kill me before I got the chance. "It's pretty badass, I'll give you that," Emmit added.

I smiled, since this was the best compliment I got in a week. "Thanks, I bet it is." Switching the focus from me to the actual injured tribute, I looked at Emmit's ankle. "Maybe we should check on you, see if you're gonna get a badass scar too." Maybe ankle scars would be all the rage in the Capitol pretty soon.

Emmit went a bit pale but agreed. "Could you, uh...can you help me with my boot?"

Scooting over to him, I tried to be the best nurse I could by keeping a straight face. "Yeah sure." I none-too gently yanked the boot off his foot. He breathed in sharply, but calmed down once it was off his foot. I noticed he had good reason to be in pain. His ankle was swelling and at least a little mangled. "Well that looks...uh..." I waited for him to say something.

"Purple," he said. "It looks purple." He wasn't wrong there either. Saying it was bruised would've been putting it lightly.

"Are you in a lot of pain?" I tried. I didn't know what I would do if he said yes, but it was worth asking.

He mulled it over for a minute, or mulled over what he was going to tell me. "I'll be okay." Good, because a hurt ally wasn't much of an ally at all. Speaking of allies, "Is it too soon to discuss business now? I have information, if you want it."

Trying not to grin too big, I gladly agreed. "This is perfect timing. Let's hear it." Preferably, all of it. Finally this alliance looked like it would pay off, depending on the next words Emmit said.

"Okay," Emmit agreed, leaning forward to draw something into the ice. I followed his lead and watched him sketch a stick figure with his finger. "Ciruss first, then." The name rang more than a few bells. This was the guy those girls had talked about in the Cornucopia, from District One. "He's the oaf that you nailed in the back of the head. Big, strong, probably a little dizzy now." This was a bit of an 'Oh' moment. Things were starting to add up. "He doesn't know what he wants, so if you're ever gonna attack him, you'll have to be smart about it." Emmit stole a glance at me when he finished.

I kept looking at his stick figure, which didn't look much like the guy I hit just a few hours prior. It didn't sound like him either, but maybe anyone is vulnerable when you catch them off guard.

"Doesn't know what he wants?" I questioned. "In what sense?"

Emmit began to draw again. This time, his figure wore a skirt. "This is Laurel Hayes. District One. His...ex, I think. I don't know what he wants to do about her. Not anymore." I wondered what changed, what caused the anymore. It made me wonder about Emmit's past with these people.

"Oh." Laurel, I definitely recognized. A fight between her and Ciruss now made sense, considering they had broken up. But there was someone else she picked a fight with, too. "There's another girl, too, isn't there?"

Another, even smaller, girl was drawn. "That's Saira, the bitchy one."

"Nice identifier," I chuckled. It fit, though, considering she told Laurel to step off her man a few times. "So what, she and Ciruss are together?"