(lone wolves) /. { pillar, hyacinth, jenoah } .\ (day five)

Her words were pointed and sharp, but Hyacinth doesn't react with anything beyond a dry statement of gratitude. It causes the girl from One to purse her lips in thought, recognizing just how hateful her last remark had been — without it being necessary in the slightest. She looks down at her hands as the two tributes sit down, placing their weapons aside just as she had. It's a harsh truth to grapple with, but there's now a toxicity to her entirety that frightens her. Her eyes are always shifting, fingers always twitching — and maybe there's no way to escape the Games consuming you. Even when you can manage a smile and block out all the fires of Hell, you're still left burnt and changed

— and now her teeth are forever sharp, willing to tear apart anything that gets between her and victory.

But chapped lips close and hide a snarl before it can form, and she understands that now is not the time to wage war. Blue eyes glance up to the pair preparing their water and eating to fill their growling stomachs, and it's a scene that calms her. There's a peacefulness to it, somehow — a ragtag group of survivors feasting like bloody kings right beside of a dead body, with the fading smell of burnt flesh hanging in the air. Most would find themselves shaken and confused by the setting, wondering about how far they fell from grace to become so disgusting and vile, but there is only beauty to be found in this place. A sick, artificial kind. The Capitol finds a sense of wonder in trickling red and shattered marrow

— and she knows that they'll kiss the blood on her hands and call it their salvation if she makes it out alive.

Jenoah breaks the silence with a question, and she listens to Hyacinth's short words as she pops a handful of berries into her mouth. She chews, raising an eyebrow at the knowledge of Hyacinth having left her allies by choice. It seems that some alliances had a say in their separation, and for the rest, the arena gave them the final push needed to part ways. She sighs and leans forward with her flask, holding it over the fire and looking at Jenoah. "I didn't leave mine behind," she says, though it's not her intentions to vilify Hyacinth's decision. "There was an earthquake where we were camping. We had to run and save ourselves — but then the storm came, and we just never made it back to each other."

She doesn't look to Reese's body, but she knows that they'll understand who she's addressing. "It hurts knowing that I was so close; that I could have helped him," she goes on, sitting back and taking off the lid of her canteen. "But he would have had to die anyway, so I guess you saved me the trouble," she finishes with a detached shrug, finally satisfying her thirst by bringing the water up to her mouth. "What about you?" she asks, turning her attention back to the boy. "Did you lose yours, too, or was it your own choice to travel solo?" She looks down to the ground, tracing a slender finger across the small droplets of water that have been left clinging to the granite beneath her. She traces three lines, but then the sound of another cannon fires, and she adds another. "That makes four tributes dead today," she muses aloud, putting aside her flask after refilling it and pulling her knees up to her chest. "That leaves, what — seven of us now?" She grins weakly at the thought of the final eight interviews and what her family must be saying about her

— Kellan's sure to be enjoying the spotlight.

Both the memory of her brother and the fire warm her, and she finds herself watching the flames until they leave her seeing splashes of color and feeling the need to blink away the sensation of stinging. She rubs at her eyes with an unclothed hand, keeping them closed for a few moments and finding shelter in the darkness. She thinks about the lives that have been lost — about how the endless night must have felt to Reese, and she ponders if the young man from Twelve had died a quick death the day prior; he had been kind to her, and seeing his face in the sky had tasted bitter. Most of all, she wonders if Bolts' screams will haunt her in her sleep. Lips part as if she's going to answer herself, but a yawn is all that comes out. She removes her hand and squints at the sudden flash of light, shaking her head and toying with a strand of blonde hair that falls across her face. 

She takes notice of movement coming from where Hyacinth is sitting, and the sight of the cat that rests in the woman's arms is enough to make the younger girl's heart skip a beat. She says his name, speaking of him with a deep love that causes Pillar to smile, but the warm expression is broken by a gasp when Hyacinth suggests that her or Jenoah would attempt eating him. "I would never eat a cat!" she nearly shouts, but her features show only excitement and a childish look of intrigue. She scoots closer to Hyacinth without realizing it, outstretching a hand to the cat's face with a sharp inhale of anticipation. When he sniffs her fingers and licks them with a rough tongue, she's not able to stop herself from giggling. "Hi, Buttercup. I'm Pillar," she greets him, looking up to Hyacinth with the face of sixteen-year-old girl, not that of a murderous career who has killed two people. "He's awfully handsome."

She bites her lip, leaning back and fiddling with her hair. "Hey, Hyacinth? Listen — what I said about the goat cheese was a little insensitive. I don't know, maybe that was just my morbid humor talking — but it wasn't funny, and I'm sorry for being an ass." Part of her wants to keep talking; to confess how in another world, the two of them could have possibly been friends, but she realizes that she'll never see that reality come to be. She smirks with a chuckle, moving to sit right beside of Hyacinth and nudging the older girl's side with her elbow. "If we meet up again tomorrow, I promise that I'll give you the first swing."

She looks down to the cat, then back up to Hyacinth with blushing cheeks and an aura of happiness around her that shouldn't exist in a place like this

— "Can I hold him? Please? I promise that I'll be gentle."

And when the cat is placed in her arms, warm fur tickling her skin, the feeling of the cat purring takes her to a place that is outside of the arena. A better place; the kind that you have to dream of to visit. A world where her hands are stained only in cherry flavoring, stomach full on sweets and smile stretched wide. Two new friends sit beside her, and she holds Hyacinth's cat on her lap with a squealed 'awe!' It's a beautiful and charming thought

— but then she comes crashing back down to their harsh reality, hugging the cat tighter to her chest with a sigh that is sad and hollow; because the red on her hands isn't sweet, and she'll never come to know Hyacinth or Jenoah as friends.

{ Both of them have to die for her to live,

and it's a selfish longing

— but she hopes to see their faces in the stars. }