}Bird of the Summer{ [H/S/W fight]

Oceanic eyes darted across the barren landscape casually, searching for some sort of shade from the hot, beating sun of the Arena. The only place she could remember being comfortable in the Games at that point was the hot springs she had used previously to fill her water jugs, but Winona wasn’t quite sure he wanted to go back there. She had plenty of water left to drink—the blonde could easily last another week on her current water supply; however, she did need to find food but she didn’t know exactly where to find such. All of the animals she had seen were poisonous, and there were almost no plants at all to eat. It would have been helpful if she had taken that trapping station after all.

But no, that was where He was supposed to protect her. He was the one who could find them shelter and other necessities for survival. He was the puppeteer; she was the puppet. And now that He was gone forever, it was all up to Winona Kirby to fend for herself. It was settled, then. The remaining Tribute of Four would fight for her life from then on and not let anything get in her way. No tears, no sadness, no desperation.

She decided, then, to head towards the hot spring and take a dip in it. Maybe it would soothe her mind, and she needed that. Walking in that general direction, she repeated the names of the surviving Tributes over and over in her head. Katie, Daniella, Zack, Maia, Zuka, Nadene.. Heron and Storm. The last two names always came slightly separated from the other six, and memories of their brief encounter flowed throughout her repetition. In those few minutes Winona had known Heron and Storm, one of their allies had been pushed down a cliff to her death by Him. When she stopped to remember and think about it, it was quite a depressing scene. What if she had been the girl from District One? What if she had suffered an unfortunate demise so early in the Games when tens of thousands of people had been relying on her back home after the First District females had performed so well the past few years? Even in her dying moments she couldn’t have handled the pressure. People affected her too much.

As she reached the hot spring at the side of the volcano, she began to remove her top from her body. Pulling it over her head, the neckhole got caught on her chin, and she struggled to get it over her face. A strange wave of paranoia fell over her as she realized it was possible that while she was without vision something—or someone—could end her life and she couldn’t defend herself in any way. Panicking, Winona ripped the top and swiped it off her body quickly. With a glance around her, she found no one whatsoever to be anywhere near her.

Winona spoke too soon. In the distance, two people approached her, and she could make out their outline from afar. Definitely humans, she noted, so there was no worry of poisonous muttations ending her life. Of course, there was the ever-present threat of a Tribute stabbing her in the eye or disemboweling her, but she tried to keep that out of her thoughts.

Straining her pale blue eyes, Winona attempted to make out who the figures were. At first she thought they were both males, but then she began to see the difference in one of them. And then it hit her. The male was definitely Storm Wie when she focused her vision on him. And the girl, of course, was Heron. Immediately her palms began to sweat and her head began to ring. She couldn’t hide here; there was nowhere to get full cover from anyone. If this had been the typical Arena with trees everywhere there would have been no problem for her hiding in one until the two went by; but, in this Arena, there was nowhere.

And so she walked towards them. There was no reasoning behind her doing so, but Winona’s feet propelled her forward in the direction of Storm and Heron. She was sure they would want her dead after what had happened to their ally—and Heron even more after the death of her District partner. The blonde told herself she wouldn’t cry, but, as she placed one foot in front of the other, a small trace of salty liquid could be seen welling in her eyes. There was something rather depressing about coming to your imminent death; but at least she was doing it stalwartly, not chickening out and fleeing the scene. She was brave. And if Winona Kirby died that day, she’d take to the grave the recently learned knowledge of her own bravery, her own strength, and her own willpower.

Her uncle had always told her she was nothing. Her uncle was wrong.

As she reached the two, she allowed her tears to permeate her eyes and seep down her cheeks, pausing for a moment at the peak of her cheekbone before continuing to steadily drip to the ground. Turning her head upwards, Winona looked at Heron straight on as the tears continued to flow. ”He’s gone. Heron, he’s gone, and I’m sorry.”

With a quick swipe of her paw to her face, the Tribute removed the salt water from her face. Azure eyes were now bloodshot, stained with the painful tears of a renewed self. She was stronger, more passionate. She took nothing for granted now. Life was precious, not something to be wasted with petty ‘love’ and hidden insecurities. Gripping her pike tightly, she spoke once again to Heron. ”I’m sorry.” And with a stab of her weapon, her only hope—something that could protect her much more effectively than He could now—Winona Kirby was reborn.

Attacks Heron with spear.
[dice=200+3000]
Shallow cut on stomach. 4.0

Filler because, yeah, same reasons.

Winona DOESN'T ATTACK. She stops and looks them in the eye, and runs back to the hot spring. There she sits.