The World Ahead // {Open}

Oh life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no,
not even grey when she buries her baby

She'd caught a squirrel the previous morning, but it wasn't enough. The last bit of meat was gone, the bones sucked dry. Surprisingly, Victory hadn't found it the least bit disgusting or odd to strip an animal bare. She had always been the cook in her house, even as a young girl. Preparing meat had just been a act of life. It was different, though, scavenging, using a kitchen knife she'd taken to skin and gut and clean. She usually didn't bother making a fire; she wasn't very good at it, for one, and two, it might attract the wrong sort of attention. She'd met only a few people since leaving District One, and for the most part, she wished she hadn't. Either they were reclusive like her, and therefore they had no business speaking, or they were thieves. She'd lost a good bit of what she'd taken into the woods late one evening, and now made sure to spread out her belongings in various hiding places.

In some ways, she had become the squirrel.

Victory tucked her knife into her belt, having punched a notch in it so that it was easier to carry. She arranged the rocks and leaves over her newest hiding spot carefully. Whomever had left behind the crude pot and blanket was no doubt sorry to find them missing, and Victory wouldn't repeat that mistake. She needed them if she wanted to survive the winter. Already she had begun to head south from District One, circling the edges of the districts in the mountains. It was treacherous, slow going, especially since she kept distributing and collecting items. If she was still in the mountains when the snow began to fall, she probably wouldn't survive.

But then, this had never really been about survival. This was about to rebellion. She needed time to think about how to exact revenge, and she couldn't do that idly sitting around with the Capitol breathing down her neck. So, she'd left. She had buried her only child and left. Autumn haunted her though, in the chill breeze, in the changing leaves. Green to red to yellow to brown. Victory watched them, gathered leaves bigger than her hands and pressed them to her chest. The trouble was, they inevitably dried out, grew brittle and broke. The tide of time was stronger than anything Victory did to keep the leaves moist. They had died the moment they left the tree; it just took a little longer for their colors to fade. Just like her baby girl.

With her knife secure, Victory brushed her hands on her navy pants and stretched. Her back ached from all of the work but it was a sort of pleasant feeling, one that radiated and reminded her to keep moving. There was a river coursing slowly through the valley, and she needed water. She hadn't yet successfully caught a fish, but there was always that elusive possibility. Something other than small game and plants would be a welcome change for her diet.

She approached the water cautiously, fingers splayed as she made her way down the forested hill. Her wide eyes were her best defense, as her hearing had already started to go without the constant upkeep from the Capitol. At first she had wondered why they hadn't outfitted her with some sort of inner ear working. But now she understood. She wasn't worth the time or expense it would take. They had only needed her to look good for the cameras, had only needed her to field a tribute for their Games. Victory paused, leaned against a slender tree trunk to catch her breath. The air sliced down into her, stung with the coming of winter. If only she could keep Autumn in her grasp, everything would be okay.

Tears welled at the bottom of her protruding eyes. They fell lifelessly, dropping past her face onto the dead leaves below.