Kara Windfield's P.O.V. (D1)
"Up and at 'em!" I shout, kicking Ace and Elsa awake, "Hurry up! I want to go hunting again!"
Elsa rubs her eyes and looks around, "Where's Fynn?"
I roll my eyes impatiently, "He's outside. He was awake all night, so I let him take all of our night shifts."
Elsa frowns, "That wasn't really nice of you. You were supposed to take over the next shift when Fynn was done."
"Yeah I was going to, but he told me that he could handle it!" I snap back in defense.
"You know what? Fine, whatever," Elsa shakes her head, obviously uninterested in further argument.
"Hurry up and eat something so we can go," I command eagerly, "Or you could just eat something on the road. That would probably be best."
Elsa blinks at me then looks at Ace, who is securing a pack over his shoulders. He looks at us questioningly, "What? Are we going or not?"
"Yes! Finally!" I celebrate as I arm myself with a curved knife. I don't bother getting a pack since we'll just be returning to the cornucopia later anyways.
"But Ace, we've barely had enough time to wake ourselves up," Elsa complains.
"Just splash some water on your face from the river and we can eat something while we're walking."
"Ugh..." Elsa sighs dramatically, "Fine."
As we walk out of the horn, Ace grabs an axe and tosses it on the ground beside Fynn. It clatters noisily on the rocks, but Fynn doesn't seem to notice. He just sits there with his back turned to us, staring down the river.
"You coming?" Ace speaks up, but we don't get a response from him.
I shrug and jump into the water, not really worried about if Fynn comes or not. I'm going to be doing the killing anyways, not them. They'll just be there for backup.
Eventually, Elsa and Ace follow me, leaving Fynn alone. I can't figure out why he's being so depressed. I mean, he should be jumping up and down that he's one step closer to winning because his sister died. Now that she's out of the way, he doesn't need to protect her anymore, and as a bonus, it leaves less tributes for him to fight off. But let's just hope Fynn doesn't get too cocky, because all of his hopes and dreams of winning this thing will be sent down the drain when I personally exterminate him.
I smirk at the thought of making another kill. I feel my adrenaline start pumping as I imagine how I'll kill them all. I'll probably start with Fynn, because he'll be an easy one, then I'll do Elsa. Oh, Elsa...she'll be a good one. We've been building up a hate for each other ever since we met, so I'll finally prove that I'm better than her. And last but not least, Ace. I'll save him for last just out of respect. He's the only person in our whole alliance that has stood up for me numerous times and more importantly, he's the only one that actually appears to have a brain. I think the least I could do is allow him some more arena time.
I figure I should find a way to break him down first. I'm already working on it, believe it or not. I'm building up a trust between us, slowly, but surely. Then I'll take that trust and turn it around and throw it in his face one day to make things more fun.
But I have to be patient... Wait for the time to be right...and then I'll strike.
Dylan Harrison's P.O.V. (D8)
Wesley and I sit within the grove of chestnut trees as we wait for Emma to return. She told us that she was going to fetch some water from the river a little while ago.
I bury my hands in my pockets and watch Wesley peal off the hard shell of a chestnut. When he's finished, he casually puts it in his mouth.
"You know, they're better when they're roasted," I comment, trying to stir up a conversation.
"Are they now? I've never tried them that way," Wesley states simply, "In fact, I barely ever ate chestnut back in District Twelve."
"Why? Is there a shortage of them there?"
"No, I just don't particularly love them. But I'll eat them if I have to," he elaborates and I nod, looking down at the dirt.
"Listen...I've been thinking about something, but I want a second opinion," I say, and Wesley perks up.
"Shoot," Wesley says as he throws another nut into his mouth.
"I just don't know if it's a stupid thing to do right now, but I want to do it anyways because I'll never have the chance again. I guess it won't mean much, but I want to ask Emma to marry me."
Wesley suddenly leans forward and spits out the chestnut with an exaggerated cough, "You wanna-" he pauses to check if Emma is around, then says quieter, "You wanna what?!"
"Ask Emma to marry me," I repeat, even though I know he already heard me.
"I know, I know," he says quickly, "But what confuses me is why? Don't you think it would upset her?"
I frown, "How would it upset her? It's something she's always wanted."
He shrugs, "I don't know...if it's what you want. It's just that, I don't really see the point since...you know..."
"Yes, I do know, and that's why I at least want Emma to know that I truly was going to propose to her. She'll know how I really feel about her. Just think, I won't ever get another chance to ask her again."
"Maybe it is the right time. It'll make her happy, which is a hard thing to get when your trapped in an arena with many other teenagers who want to kill you."
I pull the steel ring out of my pocket to show Wesley. The band is a smooth silver, crowned with a little, gleaming sapphire.
"Woah..." Wesley marvels as the sun catches the blue gem, "It's perfect. How long have you had that?"
"A year," I reply, stuffing it back in my pocket, "It was my mom's engagement ring. I decided to bring it into the arena as my token for two reasons: as a memento of her, and in case I ever decided to actually ask Emma."
"Better late than never," Wesley says solemnly, patting my shoulder.
"Why not never?" a different voice says from behind us, causing us to jump and turn around.
Kara Windfield is leaning against the bark of a chestnut tree with her elbow as she tosses a nut behind her shoulder. She is alone, so I assume she either left the Career alliance, or they split up while out on a hunt. When she has our full attention, she grips the handle of her curved knife and starts approaching us slowly, her eyes widening and a smile creeping onto her her lips.
Emma Orton's P.O.V. (D8)
I take a long sip of water out of a canteen as I start my return trip to Dylan and Wesley. They are probably wondering what took me so long. I hope I didn't worry them, but I only stayed a little longer to take a short swim to clean up a bit. The water was cool and calm, making me feel refreshed.
I can see the chestnut grove from here, A.K.A. our current campsite. As I get closer, I think I hear a yell or two. Concerned, I start jogging, which turns into running when I see another person there.
I drop my pack and canteen on the ground, trying to gain speed. I clench my jaw when I'm close enough to see the attacker- Kara.
I reach the trees and snatch up my sword, immediately charging at Kara, arching the sword through the air with a yell. She notices and moves just in time to avoid the swing. The blade digs into the dirt and rocks beside her feet, but I easily yank it back out and take another swing at her. She ducks under or sidesteps everything I throw at her, as if I had the fighting skills of a toddler.
As I swing my sword upwards in a uppercut motion, Kara makes a move, punching my ribs. I drop my sword and hold my side.
Kara grabs my hair and throws me against a tree. Then Dylan's axe cuts through the air, missing Kara's neck by an inch.
Kara laughs as she faces Dylan, twirling her knife around in her hand expertly. She moves forward, displaying a series of jabs and slashes with her knife. Eventually, she opens a small cut on Dylan's hand, but that only makes him strike his axe at her.
I straiten up and rush over to my sword, picking it back up. I turn around, facing Kara's back. I hear what sounds like a punch, and Dylan grunts. I can't see what's happening because Kara's in the way, but I do see Dylan stagger backwards away from Kara, bending over and clutching his stomach. Man she must've really sucker-punched him.
I yell and swing my sword at her again, but then Wesley's voice shouts out, "Get out of here!"
We all turn to see Wesley a few yards away, pointing his loaded bow at Kara's head. He takes a step closer, "I said, leave!"
Kara smirks before suddenly taking off towards the forest. What's weird is that she gives me a small salute as she disappears into the distance. I also notice that she wasn't holding her knife anymore. Wesley and I watch until she's completely gone. I can't believe she left so quickly, without putting up a fight... I don't have a good feeling.
I become aware of a heavy breathing behind me, followed by a choked exhale. Wes and I turn to find Dylan, still hunched over and holding his gut, leaning against one of the trees. He looks at me blankly, and suddenly collapses.
"Dylan!" I rush over and kneel beside him. I gasp in horror as I realize that what I had thought was Kara just punching him was something much worse.
Kara's knife is completely stabbed into Dylan, with only the handle part sticking out. Blood has started seeping out and dyeing his shirt red. I clap my hands over my mouth, unable to fight back the tears pooling in my eyes. Dylan looks at the knife, hopelessness filling his eyes.
"Oh no, this isn't happening..." Wesley mutters behind me, "This isn't happening."
Dylan lays his head back, breathing shakily through clenched teeth. I don't know what to do besides try to stop the blood from pouring out. Sweat forms on Dylan's face as he reaches into his pocket.
"Dylan, you're alright, please be alright," I plead, "Just stay awake, please. Please don't go, don't leave me!"
"I-I need...I need to ask you something..." Dylan half-whispers through quickened breaths.
"No! Don't talk," I say, thinking it'll probably hurt more for him to talk.
Ignoring me, he raises his blood-dripping fist, tears filling his eyes. I cup my hands around his as he opens his fist, holding up a silver ring with a blue sapphire in between his thumb and index finger. Even though it's covered in a layer of his blood, it's still beautiful.
The one thing I have always wanted from Dylan has finally come true, but in the worst way possible...
"So what do you say? Would you marry me..." he whispers, forcing the smallest of smiles.
I nod repeatedly, unable to speak. My ears are ringing, but I still manage to blurt out, "Yes! Of course I would!"
Sobs lace my voice as I lift Dylan up into a tight embrace, shoulders shaking as my tears soak his shirt. He weakly wraps his arms around me. I can't stop myself from repeating over and over, "I love you, please don't go."
"I love you too..." I hear a soft whisper.
BOOM!
Dylan's arms relax and he becomes limp as I keep my arms around him tightly, not wanting to let go. His head rests on my shoulder as I rock back and forth, endless sobs erupting from me.
My whole being feels like it's been torn to shreds, and a piece is missing now, so I feel that I'll never be able to put it all back together.
Nothing can bring back what I felt around Dylan. Only Dylan could, but now he's gone, and I'll never be the same. And I might never be able to accept that he really is never coming back.
Ever.
~~~~~~
Hi...sorry if that was depressing. And sorry if it wasn't written very well. I'm never really sure if what I write really affects the readers, so let me know. If it was bad, be honest with me please.
(Unedited version) feel free to make corrections where you find mistakes!
~MK