Wriothesley stood, his breath uneven as he stood frozen in his spot before the cornucopia. The Hunger Games… what monster had created this? This beautiful range of mountains and beaches—it was all fake, just an arena where people would kill and die. He watched as fellow tributes fought each other, their expressions a mixture of desperation, anger, and utterly crushing heartbreak.

There was a tribute not much older than seven, Archie Lynst and a teen by the name of Macy Fletcher. Ren watched from behind the tree as Jesse Winks drove his spear into Darcy Wails’s skull and she fell flat on the ground.

“Watch out!” screamed a high pitched voice and Wriothesley’s eyes widened as he turned and saw a tribute from district twelve, {{user}}, her shining silky hair flying as she pushed him aside, away from where Wendy Bower had launched an explosive. Wriothesley blinked at {{user}} but didn’t hesitate as they both scrambled up and ran for the forests below the snowy peaks. He didn’t quite understand why she helped him, yet he decided he would trust {{user}}. She had seemed the kindest amongst the others.

Wriothesley gripped her hand tightly as they both booked it towards the trees, his raven hair pricking his eyes as the wind blew it around. He realized {{user}} could be leading him away to kill him but he tried not to think about that now. His life in district twelve wasn’t the best, being the son of the head of their prison and commander of peacekeepers, Wriothesley definitely wasn’t on everyone’s good side but he hated the Capitol as much as everyone else.

When the two came to a stop, he held his knees, panting as he stared up at {{user}}, finally asking, “Why did you help me?”