Monsters of the Sea // [Te Kore vs. Elephant Seal]

Needless to say, the boy from District Two did not awake. Hero was not surprised, what with the brain matter falling out of McGregor’s skull, but he thought it would be impolite to interrupt or point out the folly of the funeral-that-wasn’t-a-funeral. He wasn’t about to make any enemies, and so long as there were tributes in the Arena who didn’t immediately want him dead, he was going to act respectful. Not to mention his own reservations about the boy’s death; though Hero hadn’t seen McGregor die, his death painted a picture of reality that seemed all too unfair. He fully expected to fight the boy from Two before the week ended, and now their battle was never going to happen.

Guess Hero was lucky.

While luck could rid the Arena of his opponents, it could not make the trek through the hell-forest shorter or more pleasant. At one point, an ugly creature descended quickly from the trees and attempted to whomp Hero on the head, but he pushed the little beast away and kept moving. Leave me alone! he wanted to shout above the treetops, so loud the whole Arena could hear. So what if the other tributes heard him? The trees all around were a barrier of their own, impenetrable without great effort. Hero only wanted to be left in peace so he could make his way to the waves. The trio climbed through the bush and over murky mud puddles and under fallen branches, and it was impossible to tell when the sun set, given that the forest was a hellscape of humid darkness.

Ugh.

Night had surely fallen when he finally heard the surf in the distance, and the sound made his heart soar. If he tried hard enough – oh, and he tried – he could ignore the cacophony of the ugly forest and imagine he was back in District Four, back with his father, back with his best friend. The sound brought warmth to his chest and a great energy to his limbs, and though he wanted to press forward until he reached the waves, he and his allies made camp. They would take on the waves in the morning.

Admittedly, it wasn’t much of a camp at all. The trio flopped down wherever there was a dry area, and Hero took inventory of his things. The one upside to the trek was that he had received a mini wealth of items via parachute in the middle of the day, and he now had two weapons: the bow and a spiked blunt weapon that looked positively deadly. His sponsors also provided a backpack (necessary, given the uselessness of the little pack at his waist), a canteen, and a…

Well, a mold of Cricket Antoinette. A beach toy. Though he questioned the purpose of spending valuable coin on a toy for a tribute, he figured he could make some use out of it. Eventually.

The last of the supplies in his pack was a bundle of firewood, gathered along the way. The only upside of the Fucking Forest was the abundance of resources, and Hero had to remind himself that this was a game of survival. It was never meant to be convenient, and he would have to take every new experience – even this obnoxious trek – and use it to his advantage.

The anthem screamed overhead not long after they stopped, and the faces of two tributes were displayed on the treetops. So the bloodbath wasn’t much of a bloodbath after all, and the next coming days would be bloody.

This revelation didn’t make it easy to sleep, but the exhaustion from the long day’s hike finally won out. When Hero woke, his heart soared as he remembered they were only a short walk to the waves, and he immediately woke his allies.

(They probably weren’t happy with this arrangement, but whatever! Hero took to the day like it was his birthday and his allies were a set of disgruntled parents wanting to sleep in.)

“Guys, guys, wake up!” he said, remembering a little too late that they might think something was wrong. “No, no, don’t worry. We should just keep moving.”

This was his excuse – if they did not keep moving, other tributes would surely overtake them. Rise and shine if you don’t want to die!

Relief flooded him as he finally stepped over the Last Fucking Branch and his feet hit the sand. He fell to his knees and wanted to kiss the ground, but he did one better – he collapsed into it and took a long, deep breath.

“Feels like home,” he said, looking at Lux, remaining sprawled out on the ground. “Doesn’t it?”

It was a struggle to remember that the sand and the waves would not envelope him with comfort. This became immediately apparent when he heard a noise somewhere to the left. Hero turned his head to look, and scrambled up. In front of them was a –

Well, Hero wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but it was large and clearly unfriendly. That was enough for him to draw his weapon, and he lunged forward with its sharp spikes.

“Nope, nope, nope. Get off the fucking beach and leave. Us. Alone,” he grunted, swinging his arm forward and aiming for an exposed part of its flesh.