Although most of the people that Haymitch cared about were currently in the arena with him, the thought of Snow being able to get to Katniss or Gale's family without anyone knowing was unsettling. He couldn't help but worry, and wish that he was still in control as a mentor. Even though Peeta wouldn't have made it through a second time, Haymitch wanted to pull the strings for everyone from a distance, to make sure that nothing went terribly, catastrophically wrong, and that the Capitol's reach wasn't so broad and unchecked. Battling with his emotions in front of a nation wasn't going to happen, and Haymitch did his best to keep his head in the game. Katniss needed someone steady, someone present and Haymitch wasn't going to let her down.
Unfortunately, in the time that the former Victor had hesitate, Katniss had already stomped her way over to one of the cameras. There was a fire inside of her, Haymitch knew that, much provoking Snow when there was nothing that she could do to stop his wrath was a foolish idea. “You feel good about that?” Haymitch asked, completely unamused as Katniss stepped away from the small bush and began to continue along the edge of the mash. He followed behind her, angry with himself, her and the Capitol for getting them back into this mess.
After Katniss's outburst, the most important thing to do was find safety and a shelter, and if they could manage, try and meet up with the others. Haymitch assumed that Katniss was worried about her sister, but he thought that Prim would be fine if she was still with Gale. As long as they stayed alive, gathering in a larger group didn't need to be a priority just yet.
The water that made up the marshy wetland was a deep blue, bordering on black and Haymitch was careful not to walk too close to the edge. It was hard telling what the Capitol had stored in those muddy depths, and Haymitch found himself nodding in agreement with Katniss. “I hate this place already,” he said, some of his anger diminished as they continued along. Staying angry wasn't going to accomplish anything, and Haymitch quietly told himself to remember who the real enemy was—Katniss was his ally, and so much more than that. The Capitol wanted to see them fight, Snow wanted to see them tear one another to shreds. Haymitch refused to give the old man the satisfaction.
The sound of an extra pair of feet treading through the damp grass caught Haymitch's attention and Katniss seemed to sense that they were no longer alone. He turned in time to see the newest tribute from 7, the girl that Johanna hadn't spoken very highly of, but she now seemed rather determined with that oversized spear clutched in her desperate hands. This was the part that Haymitch, the parts that made him sick as he sacrificed what little shreds of humanity had left. The cry from the girl's mouth prompted Haymitch to raise his ax, but he didn't even have to strike the girl before she was tumbling down into the water.
Around her, the inky water began to swirl and churn into a vortex and Haymitch could only stand there and watch as she called out for help. Saving her wouldn't have made any sense, especially when she had just tried to kill them. The whirlpool began to suck her under, and the young girl flailed her arms with all of her strength but the water was too much for her. Soon, there was nothing left of the girl, and in the distance, a canon broke the silence that had settled in her wake. “Let's go,” he said, turning back to Katniss. “We need to get away from this water.” Because if anyone was going to take him out, it better be another person.
Now very careful of where he stepped, Haymitch looked over to Katniss. “It's the town or those mountains,” he said, nodding toward a shadow on the horizon. “Unless you've got a better idea, sweetheart.”
The vantage point from the tree wasn't the best, but the view gave Prim an idea of where they were and how far the arena extended. The games had just started, and the blond told herself that Katniss couldn't have been that far yet. She hoped that Haymitch was keeping her safe because after watching Gale kill someone and being unsure of whether or not she had done the same thing, seven days was starting to feel like years. Part of her wondered if they could even make it that long, if their competition was also that skilled to stay fed, hydrated and alive for a week without exposing themselves to someone else who just wanted to go home. Prim felt sick.
When Gale told her not to sing, not to call for Katniss, the blonde agreed and carefully began to make her way back down the tree. “We have to look soon,” she stressed and continued to follow Gale's advice as he helped her get down to the ground safely. Prim appreciated the extra caution because a twisted ankle or a fall could spell disaster for them and there was no guarantee that Peeta could help that sort of injury.
Before her feet could touch the ground, Gale had already swept her up to into his arms and placed a kiss on her forehead. Prim closed her eyes and embraced him briefly, her quivering lower lip thankfully hidden from view. They had only been in the arena for a handful of minutes, and the blonde wasn't going to break down already—or at all, if she could help it. “Yeah, that's...” she paused, and collected herself, “let's do that.” Focusing on something, aiming for shelter was a good idea and Gale's presence helped to keep Prim focused.
The mountains were quite the walk and Prim hoped that she and Gale could stay hidden on the way. It was hard to tell what horrors were lurking in the arena and what the Capitol had designed to terrorize them with, but Prim didn't hesitate to follow Gale deeper into the arena. Knowing that the Capitol was in charge of what happened, whether they found food, or shelter, or got attacked by Mutts, was hard to take in, but Prim agreed with Gale—she hoped they found something useful too.
Before they could move out, the sound of frantically fluttering wings sounded from above. Prim whipped around in time to see a common Jabberjay, its black feathers contrasting sharply with the sky above. Warily, she looked to Gale, who whispered that it was time to go. She nodded and quietly collected her knives before moving deeper into the brush and wetlands. Those birds could have been anywhere, listening and repeating and Prim was even more nervous. Their song wasn't going to mean much when it was falsely echoed by a mutt.
“Those are for cuts,” Prim said when Gale pointed out the berries. “Shallow ones, like what you and Katniss used to get from climbing through the fence all the time.” The blonde laughed softly at the thought of a simpler time, and hoped that one day, it would return. Taking the backpack from Gale, Prim unzipped one of the pockets and knelt down by the bush. Her careful fingers plucked the small berries from the bush and deposited the green and white orbs into the one pockets for safe keeping. Prim didn't doubt that they would come in handy soon enough.
When she was done, Prim zipped their pack and turned back to Gale. “Let's keep moving,” she said, her eyes falling to the mountains once more. “I don't want to stay here with these birds...”
Unfortunately, in the time that the former Victor had hesitate, Katniss had already stomped her way over to one of the cameras. There was a fire inside of her, Haymitch knew that, much provoking Snow when there was nothing that she could do to stop his wrath was a foolish idea. “You feel good about that?” Haymitch asked, completely unamused as Katniss stepped away from the small bush and began to continue along the edge of the mash. He followed behind her, angry with himself, her and the Capitol for getting them back into this mess.
After Katniss's outburst, the most important thing to do was find safety and a shelter, and if they could manage, try and meet up with the others. Haymitch assumed that Katniss was worried about her sister, but he thought that Prim would be fine if she was still with Gale. As long as they stayed alive, gathering in a larger group didn't need to be a priority just yet.
The water that made up the marshy wetland was a deep blue, bordering on black and Haymitch was careful not to walk too close to the edge. It was hard telling what the Capitol had stored in those muddy depths, and Haymitch found himself nodding in agreement with Katniss. “I hate this place already,” he said, some of his anger diminished as they continued along. Staying angry wasn't going to accomplish anything, and Haymitch quietly told himself to remember who the real enemy was—Katniss was his ally, and so much more than that. The Capitol wanted to see them fight, Snow wanted to see them tear one another to shreds. Haymitch refused to give the old man the satisfaction.
The sound of an extra pair of feet treading through the damp grass caught Haymitch's attention and Katniss seemed to sense that they were no longer alone. He turned in time to see the newest tribute from 7, the girl that Johanna hadn't spoken very highly of, but she now seemed rather determined with that oversized spear clutched in her desperate hands. This was the part that Haymitch, the parts that made him sick as he sacrificed what little shreds of humanity had left. The cry from the girl's mouth prompted Haymitch to raise his ax, but he didn't even have to strike the girl before she was tumbling down into the water.
Around her, the inky water began to swirl and churn into a vortex and Haymitch could only stand there and watch as she called out for help. Saving her wouldn't have made any sense, especially when she had just tried to kill them. The whirlpool began to suck her under, and the young girl flailed her arms with all of her strength but the water was too much for her. Soon, there was nothing left of the girl, and in the distance, a canon broke the silence that had settled in her wake. “Let's go,” he said, turning back to Katniss. “We need to get away from this water.” Because if anyone was going to take him out, it better be another person.
Now very careful of where he stepped, Haymitch looked over to Katniss. “It's the town or those mountains,” he said, nodding toward a shadow on the horizon. “Unless you've got a better idea, sweetheart.”
The vantage point from the tree wasn't the best, but the view gave Prim an idea of where they were and how far the arena extended. The games had just started, and the blond told herself that Katniss couldn't have been that far yet. She hoped that Haymitch was keeping her safe because after watching Gale kill someone and being unsure of whether or not she had done the same thing, seven days was starting to feel like years. Part of her wondered if they could even make it that long, if their competition was also that skilled to stay fed, hydrated and alive for a week without exposing themselves to someone else who just wanted to go home. Prim felt sick.
When Gale told her not to sing, not to call for Katniss, the blonde agreed and carefully began to make her way back down the tree. “We have to look soon,” she stressed and continued to follow Gale's advice as he helped her get down to the ground safely. Prim appreciated the extra caution because a twisted ankle or a fall could spell disaster for them and there was no guarantee that Peeta could help that sort of injury.
Before her feet could touch the ground, Gale had already swept her up to into his arms and placed a kiss on her forehead. Prim closed her eyes and embraced him briefly, her quivering lower lip thankfully hidden from view. They had only been in the arena for a handful of minutes, and the blonde wasn't going to break down already—or at all, if she could help it. “Yeah, that's...” she paused, and collected herself, “let's do that.” Focusing on something, aiming for shelter was a good idea and Gale's presence helped to keep Prim focused.
The mountains were quite the walk and Prim hoped that she and Gale could stay hidden on the way. It was hard to tell what horrors were lurking in the arena and what the Capitol had designed to terrorize them with, but Prim didn't hesitate to follow Gale deeper into the arena. Knowing that the Capitol was in charge of what happened, whether they found food, or shelter, or got attacked by Mutts, was hard to take in, but Prim agreed with Gale—she hoped they found something useful too.
Before they could move out, the sound of frantically fluttering wings sounded from above. Prim whipped around in time to see a common Jabberjay, its black feathers contrasting sharply with the sky above. Warily, she looked to Gale, who whispered that it was time to go. She nodded and quietly collected her knives before moving deeper into the brush and wetlands. Those birds could have been anywhere, listening and repeating and Prim was even more nervous. Their song wasn't going to mean much when it was falsely echoed by a mutt.
“Those are for cuts,” Prim said when Gale pointed out the berries. “Shallow ones, like what you and Katniss used to get from climbing through the fence all the time.” The blonde laughed softly at the thought of a simpler time, and hoped that one day, it would return. Taking the backpack from Gale, Prim unzipped one of the pockets and knelt down by the bush. Her careful fingers plucked the small berries from the bush and deposited the green and white orbs into the one pockets for safe keeping. Prim didn't doubt that they would come in handy soon enough.
When she was done, Prim zipped their pack and turned back to Gale. “Let's keep moving,” she said, her eyes falling to the mountains once more. “I don't want to stay here with these birds...”