some kind of message lies under your skin [riptide day 2]

The chaos that drew pawprints in the grass around them subsides with a thump. The jaguar falls to its side on its own accord, rather than the punishing wounds that he lent to the creatures. He keeps in mind the precision and anticipation it took to take down the two quick and agile moving targets, letting it build confidence in himself and his little spear. They might be weaker than the other twenty-two still in the arena, but Evan maintained composure as he thrust the spear into either animals' body. They're faster and harder to track, unlike the tributes around him. He takes his spear, still fresh from the jaguar's blood, and pokes at it a few more times, just to make sure it's gone for good and not playing dead. He pulls it around some, trying to inflict as much pain as possible to trigger a response. But there is none. He presses his foot up against the jaguar and pulls the spear out, drops of blood fall like drops of rain on his shins, sizzling in the incredible heat.

"Come on, let's get away from their bodies."

Thad and Half-Dozen both begin to walk away, but Evan stays, staring. "Why the fuck should we get away? We should be celebrating." His words are just out of reach from Two and Thad. Killing mutts is almost like a rite of passage in the arena, and they want to turn it away? When a hunter catches their game, they capture it and hold it like a trophy, maybe even hang the animal's head in their house. Maybe the other districts are too soft to get excited about a great victory such as this. If he hadn't seen the other two eating in the dining hall the other day, Evan might have assumed they'd rather starve than eat, or celebrate, their catch. Upon further consideration, though, maybe Evan wouldn't eat these animals either. Something about them just.. doesn't look right.

Jogging is much more possible now, especially after a good night's sleep. It's as if Evan's body knows that it's only been twenty-four hours in the arena. It'll need to get its shit together if it wants to survive another week or so, at least. Plus with the new cut on his arm, there are more important things for his body to patch up. Heavy ankles will just have to make room.

Stacks of smaller bunches of wood lay against the large training logs. Would Thad be down to run a tree trunk in the lake they saw earlier, see who can stay on the longest? Probably not. If Evan's seen anything from him over the past day, it's that Thad Pepperwood is not nearly as strong as he expected he might. Cowardly, both of his allies are. At least poor Half-Dozen has an excuse. Thad is more capable, how could he not be more invested? As he picks up the logs, Evan wonders if they might be an appropriate substitute for a heavy rock if he ever wanted to crush his allies' skulls in. If they continue to prove themselves unable to benefit his survival, he may have to give them both the MacMillan Estate treatment. Or punishment, depending on who's talking.

"You two hangin' in there alright? I'm sorry I was so useless during that fight. You probably think I'm pathetic…" Evan mulls a snarky and condescending comment. Thad had some good looks on the pair of mutts, but the sense of self-defeat amused him. Poor Half-Dozen does his best to console him. "Thad, you did your best and we're all still alive, can't we be happy about that at least?"

"Happy about being alive? Or that we were able to survive? Have some ambition, kid. Strive to thrive, Five!" He's proud of his off-the-cuff rhyming skills. Did these two maggots seriously expect living to be good enough? No. That's ridiculous. If they think that, their faces may be up in the stars sooner than they..

"Fuck." The cut on his arm stings, reminding him of the jaguar's claws cutting into him. The heat seems to multiply for a moment as Evan makes his way to sitting on the ground. "Damn." He'd learned that some of the mutts would be poisonous in the training center. Half-Dozen was the one who talked about the antidote if he was remembering correctly.

"Hey, Six," he uses the kid's real name this time. He can't just steal another bundle of plants from him like he did last night. Eventually, they'll know something's up. "Give me that bottle with that antidote thing. I don't feel too great."

It could just be the heat pounding down on his body, but Evan would rather be safe than sorry. He'd rather thrive than barely be alive.

[actions will be in trib maint, but here's some]
[collects rope, firewood, 15ft bandages]
[receives six's antidote and uses it]
[does f/a and leisure at least]