“Be careful,” Haymitch told her as she began to walk away, deeper into the lightly wooded area. Advice like that more or less went without saying, but the former Victor couldn't resist saying it just in case something did happen. After all they had shared together, Haymitch was more determined than ever to make sure that Katniss survived this second, and completely unwarranted trip into the arena and even if he died trying, her life was always going to be more important than his own. Telling her that, however, wasn't going to fly, and Haymitch didn't think that upsetting Katniss, the only person he truly trusted throughout these games, was a very good idea. For now, all he could do was try to protect her and survive long enough to get her to end—plan or not, Haymitch didn't think he was going home.
As Katniss disappeared between the trees, Haymitch gave a look over head and noticed that the sun was ready to begin its descent. Time inside of the arena was a black hole where every day was long and relentless or quick and terrifying, but considering all of the running around they'd done, and the little progress that had been made, Haymitch thought the time was a little more on the normal side. Regardless of what the Capitol was doing, or how they were trying to make everyone suffer, a fire was still necessary for survival. There was no telling how cold the nights could get, and although he and Katniss had a fair amount of supplies, erring on the side of caution was still their best bet.
Wandering in the opposite direction, Haymitch began to gather dry sticks and brush, perfect for kindling and making a small fire. He picked up green leaves where he could, hoping that the white smoke would earn them more of a cover against anyone in the area, but there was nothing that was going to prevent the glow of the light between the trees. Fire, while life saving and important, was also the perfect way to get killed at night. The blond man did his best to put that thought of his head as he continued on his way, strong arms filling up with larger sticks and debris as he walked along, and then began to double back. Every so often, Haymitch stopped to listen for the song. He couldn't hear Katniss anymore, but he had to believe that she was still out there.
Finally, Haymitch returned to camp and began to build the fire. It was a process that he had gone through many times before—it just took a little bit of work. Eventually, after rubbing two sticks together for what felt like hours, the wood began to smoke and where there was smoke, there was fire. Slowly, the former Victor added some kindling to the flames, bringing them from small and pointless to substantially satisfying and the fire was roaring with life by the time Katniss came back through the trees. He was glad to see her, a paranoid part of him worried that she had gotten killed despite the lack of cannon fire. “Hopefully,” Haymitch responded, not angry about her empty hands as he added some leaves to the fire to mask the black smoke.
Sitting down, the arena was now almost completely bathed in darkness and the fire in front of them was a comfort, but Katniss's presence made everything that much better. He reached to wrap an arm around her shoulders, and nodded in agreement when she proposed a sleeping schedule. “I'll take the first watch,” he said, sure that she knew he was going to offer anyway. Katniss had much more to lose than he did, and getting some sleep was sure to put everything into perspective. After all, Prim and Gale were still out there somewhere and Haymitch figured that Katniss was worried.
A small silence had settled its way between them before Katniss broke it. Furrowing his brow, Haymitch didn't understand her meaning—she knew him now, she could look past every intimidating and anti-social thing he did—what was there to be nervous about? Looking down at her head on his shoulder, Haymitch asked her, “why?”
While Gale didn't seem thrilled with the idea, Prim knew that it was their best shot. She didn't want him walking around without any protection either, but she was confident that he could down most of the other tributes that might come his way. The same confidence couldn't be transferred to herself, of course, but Prim wasn't about to let that slip. She didn't want Gale to think of her as a burden, as someone who couldn't do anything for themselves—searching the other buildings was a good plan, better than waiting like a sitting duck while Gale braved part of the arena on his own. At least Prim could make herself useful, and no one was ever going to complain about extra supplies.
“I won't,” Prim promised, returning the kiss that Gale had given her. It was nothing like the one she had given him after the interviews, desperate and nervous for the future, this kiss said that they would see each other again; soon too. “Be careful,” she added after one last kiss before Gale was gone and out the door. Finally, Prim stood as well and gathered up her knives, without a backpack, she could only hoped that she found one in another building.
Checking to make sure the coast was clear before she left, Prim quickly moved down an alley and toward the front door of the building to the left. The makeshift town was quiet, and the blonde was relatively sure that the career pack had gone hunting now that the sun had started to set. It was a lucky turn of events, and it made Prim feel safer as she slipped into the second building. It was almost the same as the first one—dusty floor, a staircase, a few dirty windows—but this one contained narrow cots for sleeping and a few wooden crates piled into a corner. She moved over to them and pried the top off of one only to find that there was nothing inside.
After looking through three more creates, Prim found a second backpack, and empty canteen and some kind of chocolate bar. She stores the extras away and made a quick break for the door before moving to another building much farther down. The layouts for most of the shelters seemed to be the same, but the ground floor of the latest building was completely bare. Taking a deep breath, Prim headed up the creaky stairs. There were more boxes, and after looking through a few of them, she found a coil of black rope.
There was one crate left to inspect when the anthem began to play and Prim paused, her stomach twisting before she moved toward the window to look up at the black sky. Projected among the stars, the dead were given their last moments and Prim counted as she saw the faces of Brutus, the boy from three, the male Victor from five and Iva, the girls from seven and eight and both new tributes from ten. Much to Prim's relief, the alliance was still intact and none of the faces in the sky belonged to her sister. There was still hope out there, and Prim was determined to meet up with Katniss again.
Spurred on by the fact that everyone she cared about was still alive, Prim packed up the rest of her supplies and began to make her way back to the first building to meet Gale.
