post-training snacks | safina & atticus

post-training snacks - I

Every inch of my body is aching as I'm martialled through the long corridor towards my temporary home. Hotel for the Damned they might as well call it. We all stay in our lavish quarters for the week before checking out to our deaths. I won't be leaving a tip.

Today though, the muscle fatigue wins the war against my disdain and I long for a chance to eat, take a warm shower, and drift off into the safety of a dream world for a few hours. I spent hours ensuring I tried out every station today: identifying my strengths and weaknesses, and trying to determine what skills will be the best for helping me defend my own life. Who would've thought it was such hard work? I'm proud of myself, though, at the end of the day. Each step with shaking legs may threaten to topple me now, but there was no denying the success of the day.

Rezelle, my ever-present chaperone, opens the door to my assigned quarters and a wave of chill slaps us both in the face. My muscles tense up in this onslaught, and my dropping eyelids slam fully open again, taking in the scene of Atticus sitting at the table, bits of food in front of him at the grand table. Looks like the rest that was populating my daydreams will have to wait a bit longer. I've got a Victor to talk to.

Rezelle protests the cold and Atticus dismisses her concerns. I look around the room. Sera isn't here at the moment, nor is Klaus. Perhaps we're both getting some one-on-one mentor-tribute time. He gestures to me now. "Are you hungry, Safina? I've got some leftovers if you want any?" His hands pull a chair out for me. I oblige with ease, the purr of hunger in my stomach can't resist the food.

We sit in silence for a few moments as I sate the beast with larb gai. Then I meet eyes with Atticus as he sits there, patient but expectant. Looking for an update on the girl he's been tasked on keeping alive, I'm certain. Maybe he wants to see if I'm capable of helping myself out in there, too. I suddenly think of how many others there were between his time in the Games and my own. How many other tributes he may have offered some food to, pulled up a chair, wanting an update on training. Watching them die. District 3's newest Victor for the past 25 years. What a terrible honour it must be.


"I made an alliance today," I start. I realize I want this man to see that this year doesn't have to be like the rest. That Three is in contention. "Sera and I agreed to keep Three together. We pulled in the boy from Four too, Tide. Between the three of us, we cover a lot of bases." Inside I feel a faint sense of pride in the team I've found myself a part of. Fighters, all three of us.

"I think we really stand a chance."