Timber

Chapter Forty-Two: Dawn's Tides

Warmth stirred Hazel from her slumber once again. However, this time she immediately knew it was not the heat of her living room fireplace. And the gentle breeze playing with her hair was indeed just that, not her mother's soft fingers lazily stroking her temples. The comforting heat along her skin was that of a sunrise. It shone brightly on her face, soaking into her pores as it attempted to penetrate her damp clothes to reach her chilled skin. Hazel rolled toward the sun's rays, imagining she was back at home in front of the hearth. She savored the sensation for a moment that felt all too brief before opening her eyes. Was it really morning already?

Disappointment flooded through her as her wits caught up with her surroundings. The fleeting feeling of her mother's touch lingered on her face. Although her body was in the arena, her mind continued to replay her dreams, tinting the present with the events of the night. She shook her head, hoping to dislodge the more unpleasant parts of her dream—especially those of seeing the fallen tributes die all over again and, of course, Senator Snow.

Silus had promised to wake her up in a couple of hours, but clearly, much more time had passed. The palms above her swayed in the blooming daylight, their leaves casting oddly shaped shadows on the ground below. The growing heat of the sun permeated the air, which was perfumed with the scent of salt as the ocean whispered in waves in the distance.

As Hazel sat up further, she noticed that Kai and Ruby were no longer in the spot they had been in, the night before. In their place was a snoring Ethan, only partially clothed, of course. He lay stretched out on his stomach, head resting on his bare arms as he drooled into the sand.

Toward the beach, Aaron and Silus sat close to each other, weapons in their laps, engaged in hushed, seemingly serious conversation.

Standing, Hazel felt her muscles protest; they were achy and stiff. Although her body was weary, her senses remained sharply attuned to the sounds around her: Ethan's steady breathing, the warm breeze, the palms scratching as they danced in the air above, and, of course, the ever-present hum of the surf.

As she shifted her feet, the uncomfortable slosh of water in her socks and shoes reminded her that Ethan might not have been completely wrong about the hazards of wet clothes. Though she would never admit it to him. In district seven, they knew all too well that wet feet in the woods could lead to problems such as blisters or worse, trench foot. Gingerly, she bent down and loosened the laces of her boots until she could ease her aching feet out. The next layer—drenched wool socks—clung to her skin. Pulling them off felt like shedding moist shackles, and she sighed, relishing the relief that followed. Careful not to disturb Ethan, she made her way to Silus and Aaron. The sand beneath her bare feet was warm, having absorbed the sun's heat, but its grainy texture still unsettled her slightly.

Silus and Aaron straightened up as Hazel approached, their conversation dwindling into silence. She cast a quick glance over her shoulder at the unfortunate palm where Ian Threader was still chained. His eyes were closed, his face and his midnight colored braid, shining in the light, was so deep in color it almost looked blue. Whether he was sleeping or perhaps meditating, Hazel couldn't tell.

With a groan of soreness, she settled onto the sand beside the two boys, spreading her shoes and socks out in the sun.

"Morning," she managed in a parched tone. Both nodded subtly in greeting. She shot a narrowed look at Silus. "So much for waking me in a couple of hours."

"You complain if I wake you up and you complain when I don't," Silus replied with a smile, nudging her, "You needed the rest. Not that you really slept much, from what I could tell with all that tossing and turning."

"That's fair, I guess, but you need to try to sleep at some point yourself. You look like you could tip over any minute," Hazel said, her tone rich with sisterly concern as she examined his weary features, the dark circles under his eyes evident.