hunger knows not love | jack scavenge day 3

Despite his own reluctance, Jack's body reminded him that he needed sustenance to go on with a growl of the stomach, dizziness when he stood too quickly, a weakened grip. None of it mattered anymore, and how could any of it matter? Jack just killed someone. Murdered them. And not just anyone- one of the few untouchables of the Games. Someone who probably had a cult following by this point. Someone with a much more recognizable name than his own. And sure, he'd done everything he could to avoid it, but it was all inevitable at the end of the day, wasn't it? Machiavelli was still dead regardless. Jack probably would've been right behind him if he hadn't intervened and killed Jimmy Garner instead.

And so already, Jack saw how the games changed a person. How even those with the most steely resolve could be made to break. His hands, no matter how many people eventually lined up to shake them, would forever be stained with blood from that moment forward. The reality of that- accepting the reality of that- made it a bit difficult to be vigilant with meal times. Of all the things he needed in that moment, a hot dog wasn't really near the top of the list. But he had come this far to survive- he wouldn't let his loss of appetite be the difference between his continued survival.

He ducked into the pantry and grabbed for the first thing that looked edible on the shelf nearest to him.

[searches food storage pantry]
xhsLbBiO0V1-11
[Small tin with faded label. Could be pâté. Could be giblets for the cat.]

quite the scandal, really