Nine Lives Weren't Enough [Buttercup death]

It had been a long six days in the arena. The dirt of the fairground had coated him and turned his already murky looking fur even more mud-coloured. It had been a hard fight, but he had finally overcome the girl he had once labelled as his. Primrose Everdeen had died from a blow landed by him. That was as much a statement of his new-found loyalty as he could make, the rest came in muttered cat as he cursed her and her mother before turning his back on them. About to make his way after his last friend, even if this friend was a drunkard, he felt a sharp point pierce past his fur to nick his flesh. Weary as he was, the blow knocked him over and left him mewling.

Desperate not to look the weak kitten he felt, he pushed himself up onto four paws and tried to walk in the direction Haymitch had taken. When that proved too much he dropped to his knees and crawled. Too weak to even keep that up he flopped to his side, trying to raise enough energy to yowl for his daft friend to come back. What little noise he could make only made him tired and didn't seem to draw any attention from the one person who might aid him. Flexing his claws and lashing his tail he dug his claws into the ground as if that would keep him from slipping away.

Curse that oaf of a man. He had to go and leave, had he no care for his one ally - oh curse it; his one friend - left in the arena. Stupid man. I would have done so much better without humans, Buttercup thought. Of course, this wasn't true. Without Effie and Haymitch he would have died long ago. Prideful cats are spiteful cats, but right now Buttercup wasn't feeling much like either. Tired, that was all he felt. He was a tired cat, and it was time he had a nap. How long would it take before he saw Effie again? Hopefully it wouldn't take too long - he really did hate waiting.

Closing his eyes he relaxed his claws and let himself drift. Only he didn't drift, he stayed right there, only now he just couldn't see anything with his eyes shut. Giving a bemused chuff, he shifted awkwardly. What was the point of this? Would he really have to wait until he bled out, couldn't he just wish to be dead and just poof it happen? He was dead anyway, why did he have to wait. What a stupid system. C'mon Ripred, he'd earned it.

Just when he thought he might have to piss Ripred off in order to be smited and die that way, he felt the world slip from his claws. Its suddenness caused him to forget he had just wanted to die as he scrabbled to hold onto life. Fickle cat, a voice said in his mind. You wanted to die, didn't you. Just let go. Forget this world, it treated you poorly anyway. Besides, Effie is waiting. Blindly following the urges of the voice, Buttercup let go of life and a wave of blackness was released to wash his mind away.

Somewhere in the middle of all of the darkness he waited, a voice tingling on the edge of his hearing. Recognizing it, he began to run toward it. Slowly a small light appeared, then grew larger. Sure enough, standing in the arch-shaped opening was Effie. He leaped into her arms, all thought of living forgotten.

[end of Buttercup]