"Ironic ain't it? The one woman I can't get enough of, is the one I'll never be able to have"
Delyth Bardott grapples with unexpected emotions for her tribute, straying from the expected norms of a Capitol girl drawn to a District boy.
Meanwhile...
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Delyth and Treech walked in silence to the theater, the silence between them broken only by a surprised gasp when the ticket collector made the first noise. Instinctively, Delyth clung to Treech's arm, the boy flinching slightly but making no effort to remove her hand.
Proximity to the arena, where he would compete the next day, tightened Treech's nerves. He cast a glance downward, finding comfort in the presence of Delyth as she smiled up at him.
Eerie red lights bathed the hallway, casting an unsettling glow. The air hung thick with suffocating silence, only disrupted by the echoing coughs of Dill reverberating off the stone walls. The turnstile groaned loudly, each metallic click intensifying the ominous atmosphere.
As the metal covers slid upward, revealing overhead windows, natural light flooded the arena. The brightness illuminated the space, proudly showcasing the large Capitol symbol in the center. The more she observed the arena, the more she realised the lack of hiding spaces.
A voice interrupted her thoughts, "Welcome to the arena for the 10th annual Hunger Games," a male voice announced over the speakers, "Tributes, mentors, you have 15 minutes to survey the space and discuss strategy."
The girl caught sight of Reaper standing off to the side with Dill, whispering something into her ear. His presence triggered memories of Clemenisa, prompting her to scan the arena for the mentioned girl, yet she couldn't seem to locate her. It felt peculiar.
The girl's anxiety heightened; initially, she wished Treech would avoid the Cornucopia, but with limited hiding spots, it dawned on her that he would inevitably need to rely on an axe.
"You're going to have to grab an axe Treech, there's no where to hide or climb" she spoke, her head slowly turning to look at him, noticing his gaze not leaving the arena.
Observing his distracted demeanor, accelerated breathing, and frequent gulps, she reached for his hands. Only when she held them did he turn to meet her gaze. Comfortingly rubbing his knuckles, she spoke softly with a reassuring smile, "You're going to be fine, Treech, I promise." He nodded slightly, nerves still visible on his face.
A forceful tug at her blazer's shoulder tore her hand from Treech's, and as she was pulled away, she gazed up to find Coriolanus staring down at her.
Treech wore a puzzled expression, poised to intervene. She reassured him with a lifted hand, signaling that she was fine and wouldn't be away for long.
