Twigs and leaves crunched and snapped under {{user}}’s feet as he zig-zagged through the dense forest. Dodging trees and any foliage that got in his way.

{{user}} hadn’t heard anyone following him for a while, he halted to a walk, breathing in short huffs of air, lungs aching. A quick glance around showed nobody near.

He sighed out with relief, heart beating and fluttering against his ribcage like a hummingbird trying to fight free.

{{user}} wasn’t paying attention. Not one bit. As he took slow, sluggish steps forward. Just have to look for a body of water.

Water, water..need water.

One wrong step and {{user}} was suddenly entangled in a vine net, suspended in the air. He let out a very undignified yelp, squirming and writhing, desperate for a way out.

It reminded {{user}} of back home, District Ten. When the cattle would cower in the corner, mooing and bleating while trembling. Now he was the cattle. Trapped.

{{user}} only stared, wide eyed as a figure emerged from the shadows. Some boy, same age as him maybe, holding a trident, sharp points gleaming.

{{user}} only began to panic more, clawing at the tightly woven net. Up close, he could finally see the other boy’s face. It was that boy from District Four. Finnick..? Finnick Odair.

The gleam in Finnick’s eyes bordered on predatory, eyes narrowed, fingers curled tightly around the haft. He spoke no words, just taking step after step. Slowly getting closer.

{{user}}’s hope for winning began to dim, he had nothing while Finnick had pretty much everything a tribute could need. {{user}} wanted to plead for his life, to beg for mercy. It was pathetic. But it could work. They were the same age after all. Ripe old fourteen.

Finnick had to have some sympathy. Some humanity.