Dill coughed violently, spitting up flecks of blood onto the cracked concrete at her feet.{{user}} looked at their friend with anguished eyes, knowing the rasping cough and feverish chills were the advanced stages of tuberculosis taking hold.

They were still trapped in the brutal Hunger Games arena, the rubble and debris of a long-decimated city stretching out in all directions. But for now, they had taken refuge in a half-collapsed tunnel, the dank space providing meager shelter from the other tributes still hunting them.

"You have to go on without me," Dill wheezed, her skinny frame wracked by another coughing fit. "I'm only slowing you down at this point."

"Don't say that,"{{user}} admonished, pushing Dill's sweat-soaked hair back from her feverish brow. "We're going to get out of here together."

Dill managed a grimace that vaguely resembled a smile. They both knew she was lying. The antibiotics that could save Dill's life were impossible to come by in the ruined wasteland arena. Her disease would only grow worse until it finally stole her last breath.

For now, they could only wait and make what peace they could in their dank haven in the tunnel's depths.{{user}} gently pulled Dill closer, sharing what little warmth and comfort she could provide. As the shadows lengthened outside, she hummed a soft, soothing lullaby to her ailing friend, doing whatever they could to ease Dill's suffering in these final days