Frenetic Dancing (Thundy, Popcap)

Myla's first thoughts were exactly right. She had known that something was wrong, she was right to have been constantly looking over her shoulder nervously. For once, something that she had seen coming actually came true. She had known that something bad was going to happen, and it did. Usually it never worked like that. She was very rarely right about these kinds of things, usually the opposite happened. It was apparent that this stranger was from the Capitol, though he wasn't a normal Capitol citizen or authority. This Capitol boy was different. Dangerous. And by the look on his face and the accusing sound of his voice, he was trouble.

A billion worries rushed through her mind right then, but they were all worries that had passed through her mind before. What if he turns me in? What if the Capitol takes me and kills me for running away? What if the Capitol learns about the Uprising, because of this? What if they catch my sister? What if this stranger kills Scamp? What if they kill me?

Her worries only seemed to be coming true as she took a step back and watched the situation unfold. She hoped for a half a second that they could just leave whoever this was be, that they could leave and not have to fight him. But when Scamp spoke, he made that completely impossible. No chance of peace. This was going to be war. “You’re one to talk. Do your best and we’ll see who’s laying the floor with an arrow lodged in their brain." Myla watched as Scamp raised his bow and aimed it at the peron's head. Was the stranger in front of them even a person? He obviously looked human, except with a few dangerous, unreal aspects. Nonetheless, the Capitol had obviously done something to him. It didn't matter, because whoever it was became violent at Scamp's words.

"I'm sorry that it has to be this way, and I am sorry you have to die," The stranger said just as he lunged towards Scamp violently. "NOW DIE!" The attack sent both Scamp and his attacker back several feet into the air until they landed on the ground with a painful sound. Myla gasped at the sound of both of them hitting the ground; it was obviously painful. Standing there she was almost in shock at what was going on. She didn't bolt, she didn't take out a weapon. She just stood there and watched with a horrified gaze as the event unfolded.

Then, Scamp's order was what brought her back to reality. "Myla! Run!" He yelled over to her, but her feet didn't move an inch. It was then that she pulled out one of her knives and gripped it tightly in her hand. She couldn't just run away and leave Scamp there to fight the stranger. He would surely die, then, and she would only be hunted down quickly. It would help nothing to run off and leave him there. She watched for another moment as Scamp attacked the creature again, this time successfully.

Myla took that as a good time to attack. She ran towards the stranger, but at the same time he turned his attention towards her as well. Taken by surprise she stopped and stepped back for a moment, only to be attacked by the stranger. He lashed out at her with his fatally sharp teeth, but thankfully she dodged to avoid the worst of it. Instead of her throat, she felt the animals jaws close around her left arm tightly, his razor sharp teeth tearing into the flesh painfully. She screamed and managed to hold onto her knife, which sat firmly in her right hand. Blood started to pour out of her left arm where the stranger's teeth still grasped sharply, not letting go of her.

"Get... off... of... me!" She yelled between pained breaths, bringing her knife around with her right hand towards the Capitolite's head in hopes of making him release his grasp of her now bloodied arm.

Myla's thoughts were buzzing around her head a mile a minute, some of them worried and some of them angered and some helpless. Of all her thoughts though, one feeling was the most obvious, and familiar. Pain. The pain in her arm wasn't just a dull ache, the damage was not small. The pain was so excruciating that she was barely able to look down at her arm in fear of blacking out, and that couldn't happen. If she passed out, she would surely die. For a split second she looked down at her arm and what she saw was horrible. The human, no, animal still clung onto her arm with razor sharp teeth, tearing into it even deeper the longer he held onto it. The pain made her eyes start to water slightly, but only a second later it was dulled as the human/creature finally let go of her to dodge her knife which was lashing around wildly in her other, unharmed hand. The pain was lessened, but she still tumbled to the ground onto her knees for a moment when the Capitolite let go of it. Her blood had already started to seep out of the wound like the water out of a broken faucet; it didn't stop. The human/creature's jaws had done what they had been designed for, they had hurt her.

From where she sat, still slightly sitting on the ground and slowly making sense of the situation, she just wanted the Capitolite to stop attacking her. Why was it always her? It was as if she couldn't enter the woods anymore without being confronted with someone who was a threat to her. She couldn't go anywhere and not be in danger. If she ventured into a District, she would be out of place and someone would notice her and threaten to turn her in. Just like Scamp did.. If she wanted to blame anyone for her problems, she could blame Scamp entirely. Scamp first threatened her into training him for the Games. Scamp decided that they should join the Uprising. If they hadn't joined the Uprising she would have been able to find her sister more easily. If not for being in the Uprising she wouldn't be stuck hunting every day, helping support a whole group of people. What ever happened to her freedom? What ever happened to just being with her sister in the woods? What about that?

She didn't have much time to ponder that at all, because the Capitolite would surely attack her again. If she wasn't quick on her feet, she would be killed. She wasn't sure what Scamp was doing, but he wasn't being any help. Pushing herself up from where she sat slightly on her knees, blood was pouring from her arm more heavily and she could feel herself slowly start to become weaker. She couldn't give up, though. It was simple. If she gave up, she would die. If she kept fighting, she had at least a slim chance to live. The Capitolite must have realized this too, because he spoke. "Just give up. It will be quick if you do." What was that supposed to be, a threat? She was already in extreme pain, what else could he do to her? He could beat her an inch away from death for all she cared, and she would still be fighting him off. Why die if she had the opportunity to live?

Just then she was torn away from her thoughts again as he aimed another attack at her, but this time she was ready. Quicker, she jumped back to avoid being hit, but just barely. Once she was stable she backed away from him to save some time, until she found her back up against a tree. She turned slightly and kept backing up, trying to save as much time as possible. She needed to stall somehow, to distract him from attacking her. So instead of attacking him, she leaned against another tree for a moment, but ready to pounce if he attacked again, most of her weight centered on the front of her feet. She still held on to her knife for dear life, as if it was her one lifeline and it was her only chance at survival, because it was.

Standing there for a small moment she her steadfast glare was glued to the Capitolite, anticipating what his next move would be as she pondered what to say. There was no doubt in her mind that whatever she said, he would attack again. If nothing else, she was only buying more time for her own life, if it was certain that she would die. No, stupid thought. She scolded herself for what was probably the millionth time. It was not the time to be thinking negatively if she wanted to live. So, she turned her thoughts back to what she would say. It wasn't of very much importance exactly what she said, but more that she said something at all. Her voice weakened from the pain in her arm, she spoke. "And what if I don't give up?" It would be best to pose a question, she decided. If nothing else it would make him stop and think of a plausible answer before he attacked again. The real question was, though, was this stranger going to kill her or not?

What an obvious question. Was this stranger going to kill her or not? He was an enemy. Everyone who she couldn't trust was an enemy. To someone like her, no one ever wanted to be on her side of the battle. People were always against her; it would always be that way. The list of people that she could really absolutely trust was extremely short. Her sister would be at the top of the list, then maybe Scamp (if she decided he was trustworthy), and then maybe a few of the Uprisers. Anyone not on that list didn't care if she was alive or dead, and in this case, he actually wanted her dead. Alive didn't seem to be much of an option to her attacker. What did I ever do to deserve all of this? She asked herself silently as her opponent paused as well. The moment was short, however, and there was no time for those kinds of questions. She had to be at her highest attention, on her toes and ready for whatever attack was to come next. It was a life or death situation, and she couldn't die. Not today, she hadn't even begun to live yet. And then to just lose her life all of a sudden? It couldn't happen. There was still so much of her life ahead of her.

That thought must not have occurred to her opponent. It didn't matter who she was, what she had experienced, what her future would be. For some reason that she didn't know of, this random stranger wanted to kill her. Why? She wished that she knew. Maybe it mattered, maybe it didn't. To her, he was a bloodthirsty killer (she had assumed that he had killed before) and he didn't care about anything. The fact that she was a living, breathing, emotional human didn't seem to cross the creature's mind. At least that's how Myla saw it. It was much easier to be an enemy of anyone (or anything) if they didn't have emotions, so that is what she thought of. This enemy was horrible, this enemy was selfish, this enemy couldn't feel emotional pain.

Even if he was part human.

It didn't help that he was opening his mouth to speak. Hearing his voice meant that he wasn't some emotionless, horrible creature. Sure, he was horrible, but it didn't mean that he didn't have thoughts and feelings, and that made it all the more difficult to fight him. Just the thought that he was a person too (or at least, kind of) made the idea of defeating him and killing him impossible.And there was no doubt in her mind that that would have to happen. Shaking her head, she glared at her opponent once more, not letting her gaze falter this time. She watched and listened in a mixture of anger and fear as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Look. You don't exactly have a choice here, and neither do I, so unfortunately for you it's time for you to die." He said, crouching down and preparing to attack her. Myla was prepared to retaliate or leap out of the way if she had to, but something that he said confused her. 'Neither do I' is what he had said. What did that even mean? He was obviously some Capitol-made mutt of some kind, so maybe it was his job to kill? Maybe that was it. It was not him in general that wanted her dead, it was the Capitol. Always the source of every problem. Even so, he seemed to be quite the sociopath. If he did work for the Capitol, then he most likely would have killed before. And if he really did feel much emotion, he wouldn't be fighting her. At least, he might not be. Myla didn't have much a positive perspective on any person, but no one (except her sister) in her life had ever actually been completely good. Everyone had an ounce of evil in them, some more so then others. Even so, this guy didn't care. He wanted her dead; he wanted to hurt her.

But maybe not. His next words caught her off guard for a slight second. "I wish you would believe me when I say this, I am truly sorry, so so sorry," he said, ironically enough, right before he leaped to attack her. He could not have said anything so much worse right then, because it was enough to capture her attention for a moment instead of being on her guard. At the time when she needed to be paying the most attention, her thoughts became discombobulated again for a split second, enough time for him to attack her. She muttered a curse under her breath as he leaped at her, swiping at her knife hand. He was too quick, her mind didn't react quickly enough, and in not even a second her knife flew out of her hand and into the foliage, hidden away from her sight.

Helplessly, she flung herself onto the ground to retrieve her knife, but she wasn't sure where it had fallen and it was well hidden. There was nothing left to do. She couldn't sit there and keep looking for her knife with her back turned towards her opponent, that was a surefire way to get killed. Quickly, she scrambled up off of the ground and turned around to see him, trying to look as secure and tough as possible. There was little hope, so she did nothing but speak. There was nothing left to do except talk and hope that this stranger hadn't completely lied about being sorry.

"Please, please. Please." Her voice faltered for a moment, as it rarely did only in times when she was truly upset. For a moment she stood there, gathering her strength to speak as she backed away from him in order to gain some time. "You don't have to kill me now. It can wait, can't it? I want to know why you have to kill me, and I want to know now. If you're so right and I'm a dead-woman walking, then at least give me time to ask some questions. Could that be so bad?" Her voice was stronger then, more defensive. It was the voice she had used many times before, a voice that was strong and defiant and filled with Myla-attitude. Was she going to die? Hell no, but that was no longer her main question. She wanted answers.


[[OOC: FYI, she's my favorite character and you do not have permission to kill her. Sorry. xD]]