here upon this night [Lithe day 1]
Oct 24, 2020 6:07:07 GMT -5
Post by Lyn𝛿is on Oct 24, 2020 6:07:07 GMT -5
[attr="class","w380"]
The world whips past you as you sink into the snow with each step, leaving ankle-deep footprints that trail out in a semicircle along the crest of the hill. Don't look back, you tell yourself, but you look back towards the cornucopia anyways - and each step seems to feel heavier when you realize your district partner and her band of girls at the cornucopia were more interesting in dividing up their spoils than in hunting you down. You raise one hand to your nose, blood soaking onto your mittens, and turn to stare into the distance, first at the icy horn where the girls were and then at the ice and snow stretching in all directions.
A glint of red, too shiny to be blood and too noticeable to be part of the landscape, catches your attention from the side of a snowbank. It turns out to be a sled, its front half buried in the snow; it almost seemed as though someone had crashed it there, if it hadn't been right at the top of a hill, with no tracks leading there and nowhere it could have come from.
Plenty of places it could go to, though.
It takes some effort for you to tug the sled out from under the snow, but you can't help but be amazed at how sleek the whole thing is. The paint is fresh, the runners gleam brassy in the afternoon light, and there's a pattern of snowflakes and candles and Ratmas trees painted all along the side. Even the rich kids in Six didn't have sleds like this, just slightly fancier versions of the neon plastic ones that came out by the bucketful every winter. This looked straight outta one of those seasonal movies on TV, or one of those fairytales where kindness got rewarded and the rightful ruler was always some benevolent wise dude instead of the likes of President Snow.
You toss your pack into the bottom and start pushing the sled. As you pick up speed, the wind sets the tails of your winter jacket billowing all around you just the way the Hunger Games posters in the district would show their tributes, hair tousled just so and striking a heroic pose over the body of some massive beast, or cleverly gaining the upper hand against a pack of careers.
As the hill curves, you leap aboard, racing downward into the endless expanse.
A glint of red, too shiny to be blood and too noticeable to be part of the landscape, catches your attention from the side of a snowbank. It turns out to be a sled, its front half buried in the snow; it almost seemed as though someone had crashed it there, if it hadn't been right at the top of a hill, with no tracks leading there and nowhere it could have come from.
Plenty of places it could go to, though.
It takes some effort for you to tug the sled out from under the snow, but you can't help but be amazed at how sleek the whole thing is. The paint is fresh, the runners gleam brassy in the afternoon light, and there's a pattern of snowflakes and candles and Ratmas trees painted all along the side. Even the rich kids in Six didn't have sleds like this, just slightly fancier versions of the neon plastic ones that came out by the bucketful every winter. This looked straight outta one of those seasonal movies on TV, or one of those fairytales where kindness got rewarded and the rightful ruler was always some benevolent wise dude instead of the likes of President Snow.
You toss your pack into the bottom and start pushing the sled. As you pick up speed, the wind sets the tails of your winter jacket billowing all around you just the way the Hunger Games posters in the district would show their tributes, hair tousled just so and striking a heroic pose over the body of some massive beast, or cleverly gaining the upper hand against a pack of careers.
As the hill curves, you leap aboard, racing downward into the endless expanse.
[wolf roll #1]
OCDetDkLJ91-2
OCDetDkLJ91-2
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