σαγόνι; angel day one

Angel found himself enclosed in God's jaws. Not exactly God, the Gamemakers, but in this dome they were his god. Either way, he was enclosed in God's jaws. There... wasn't that much there, which was unsettling to the boy from twelve. It was like there was this eery monster hiding behind the corner, a Fate around the bend, a snake ready for attack. The world was at a calm, which was a calm he didn't prepare for. Angel was under the impression that this was hell, and in hell, there is never a calm. There shouldn't be at least. The cries of the dead and the heat of the flickering furnace proposed itself curiously. The flicking leaves and trees and grass (of the vegetation present, of course) bent to the will of... nothing. They bent to the breath of air. But air was not breathing. Air was still.

It was weird.

His head felt like it was filled with air. Or some sort of stuffing; one of those fancy chickens that the Capitol had on display during dinner and Angel refused to touch. His head was full. Angel didn't like it. It was like a balloon being filled to the point where it felt like it should pop but it wasn't. Maybe it was the blood pumping through his veins. The adrenaline got to his head by this point and the calm made him panic to otherwise.

Something else has to be out there, right? The trees wouldn't have teeth if they didn't. Was he dead? How else would he have seen the trees bend to the will of nothing. It's like they were living creatures. More alive than they already were. Performing a dance number for nobody but himself: but nobody likes seeing a wolf bear it's teeth and dance around it's prey, because the wolf is just about to attack at that point.

Was this how it was for Hellion? Minus being alone. She wasn't alone. She had her alliance; Angel, Parson and Annie. But this alliance wasn't her brother. Angel De Costa was her alliance, because Angel Mo never was. He never was there for her. Hellion had her partners; Angel had himself. Does God truly put his work in the hands of one, when Hell's work is in the hands of others?

Angel shook his head at the thought. Stop worrying about her. Hellion didn't give a rats ass if he lived, just as much as he did should have for her. The air was empty. The trees grinned like a Cheshire cat. Everything felt off. Angel's eyes landed on a machete in the middle of the jungle, which at first thought, Angel thought it was a trap.

Well, at least I'll be able to defend myself against something

"Right?"

Angel muttered the thought to himself. Was it too good to be true? Were the trees going to lean down and gobble him up like the Capitol eats those fancy chickens? Makes sense if so. He was the chicken and the tree was the mouth. A glance down at his skin. Hopefully they like their chicken undercooked. The boy took up the sword and the boots, the canteen was already with him. Is this the part where he dies? He'll find out eventually.

Speaking of chicken, where the fuck is he supposed to find some food? He should've payed attention better when he was at the plants station. Oh well. Karma decided to piss on Angel in that moment, but Angel deserved it.

Maybe the sheep can find food in the jungle of wolves. Maybe the wolves will find the sheep.

Either way, someone's eating.