Like the Blade You'll Stain [Day3 Kerfluffe vs. Mutts]

He waited.

Perhaps, he slept.

In the sleepy, stifling forest, sleep and waking were hardly different. Sometimes, he dreamt, his body coiling tighter and tighter around a tree trunk. He woke to vast, ravenously emptiness beyond the twigs in his stomach.

He snoozed,

and finally awoke to the smell of something delicious.

She'd been having the time of her life, splashing along the Braided River, lazing on the banks, soaking up the fine humid heat, snapping up the endless buffet of bugs. Plus, she had good company. Part of her remembered the cages, the prodding, the disgusting gravy, the chill. But mostly, she was just happy to be where she was: in the jungle.

Cavort had heard other tributes rustling through the sector. She'd paid them no mind. She was not terribly hungry and had a soft, lazy streak that made her a favorite among her friends. Other crockolisks snapped and fought. Cavort just took a nap.

So when the tributes strayed close to her favorite sunning spot, she first ignored them.

When still they pressed closer, she bared her teeth.

He'd stuck close to Cavort, ever since they'd been released from their cages into a much larger cage. He figured, no one wanted to fight with her, so she was as safe a bet as any. He coasted down the river six feet behind her tail, chose a secluded napping spot over a termite hill from hers, and always, always remained within smelling distance.

So when she opened her great wide maw at the tributes, Pleather was ready.

A hiss grew in his throat, escaping like steam between rotting teeth. He worked up his courage and then, as fast as his small legs could carry him, charged at the tributes.