16 | PIROUETTE

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16 | PIROUETTE

The morning sun blazed down on them as they made their way towards the Cornucopia, Katniss leading the way with Finnick and Johanna being the last to step onto the circular rocky surface

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The morning sun blazed down on them as they made their way towards the Cornucopia, Katniss leading the way with Finnick and Johanna being the last to step onto the circular rocky surface. Greyson walked along with Wiress and Beetee, her eyes squinting to make out the abstract form of the glinting metal surface of the horn.

Katniss stopped and gestured to the arena. "This entire arena seems to be laid off like a clock with a new threat every hour, but they stay only within their wedge. It all starts with the lightening, then blood rain, fog, monkeys. That's the first four hours. At ten that big wave hits from over there," she explained to the group.

"Wiress, you're a genius." Finnick looked over to Wiress, who in return muttered another, "tick tock." Greyson returned to his side as if she was the moon that visited the sky every night, fitting her smaller hand in his larger one and overlapping their fingers like stitches in a quilt. "Hey," he murmured under his breath.

She gave his hand a gentle squeeze, "hi."

"But the tail points at twelve," Peeta noticed, running a hand through his stiff blonde locks.

Katniss nodded, "that's where the lightening strikes at noon and midnight."

Beetee, who has been quiet this whole time, said in a calculating voice, "strikes where?"

"That big tree," Katniss pointed towards the irregularly grown tree, and Greyson while tentatively watching Beetee, could practically see the gears spinning and moving inside his head.

"Good," Beetee hummed.

Wiress sat down on the ground and started to sing a light tune to herself, looking content and happy with herself. As if she wasn't in an arena filled with people who have the intentions of murder. She was so far gone, Greyson thought numbly, someone like her isn't going to last in a game that needed full attention and control.

With his machete, Peeta draws out a two-dimensional picture of the arena into the dirt. "So twelve to one lightening. Then one to two is blood, then fog and then monkeys."

"Hickory Dickory Dock, the dog barked at the clock. The clock stroke three. . . ." Wiress' slightly manic voice hauntingly filled Greyson's ears in a way that sent chills down her spine, and Greyson didn't like listening so much to the song, so she blocked out Wiress.

Katniss was invested in Peeta's map, recalling the deadly disasters. "And then ten to eleven the wave. What about everything else? Did you guys see anything?"

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