It was the tenth annual hunger games, and you sat in the middle of the destroyed arena with Reaper Ash, a tribute who said little to nothing and took care of the dead tributes as well as the living. He didn’t seem to have a need to fight anyone, and he was currently helping you with your bleeding leg. You stared at him as he did, you’d gotten into a fight with Coral earlier and has almost died trying to escape. Reaper was from District 11, agriculture while you were from district 7, lumber. And while you knew how to use an axe you didn’t know how to stitch wounds. So here you were, sitting by a boy who could kill you at any second but yet hadn’t.

“There, it’s done. It probably won’t hold long but it should work for now.”

Reaper said taking his hat off and wiping sweat from his forehead.