at first, you supposed cato wanted to kill you. it was the point, the part he was supposed to play. however, as the days until the games began drew close, cato's carefully put together mold was crumbling. his eyes, once intent with murder, grew observant and watchful of you.

in the start of the games, you vowed to stay away from cato - not wanting your death to be so quick.. or ever at all. however, the blonde tracked you down time and time again. yet never once raised a weapon to you. only ever scaring you off in a direction like herding sheep.

it wasn't until he had lost a few allies, and killed nearly half the area did he finally confront you. 'allies' he called you both. together, you both dominated the few that strayed on the edges. and although you both could do well with actually killing, food was a need as well.

its nice, a small breeze with an impending air to it. the prey with really meat to it has made itself scarce ― not much more than a mouse scurrying around the leaves on the ground. so, you've set cato and yourself on a foraging hunt.

it's only locial to split and search. after, of course, explaining what type of berries to be on the look-out for.

your perhaps away from each for the short span of 10 minutes, but the sound of the cannon echoing nearby sends your heart down to your stomach. your eyes dart around, before sprinting in the direction you last saw cato.

panic-striken, you strike a strong and built chest before you can register it's there. hands, firm and there grasp your upper arms, and your eyes shot up to the boy who ― quite frankly ― you've just thought had died. your words come out in pants as your eyes land on a pile of berries that cato had been collecting. they're darkened, and just a bit too purplish for your liking.

nightlock. suddenly, you are snapping at him, scolding and lecturing him. cato only stares down at you, his voice saying what you are thinking, "i thought you were dead.." he sighed. his grip on your shoulders tightening ever so slightly with relief.