bittersweet / self para
Splitting up so late to cover more ground and find shelter had been a mistake, but time didnât pass fairly in the arena - or so it felt - and the darkness fell on them earlier than predicted. His liquid eyes were sparkling in the night with wide curiosity and maybe just a scent of fear for the unexpected - weary, calculated and slightly reluctant to make another step without knowing where they had hidden other mines in the sweet ground. Exhaustion hadnât touched his cheek even gently, feeling more charged for a confrontation than ever, as if extracting power from the candy-looking moon and defeating the darkness his bones were shaking slightly for. His stomach was loud and demanding, after a day of not eating anything, but nothing felt real in that pink world and he refused to focus on such a fundamental need he didnât even need anymore. A person could last days without one piece of bread and he wasnât hoping for more days anyway. Just as much as possible for the passion of the Game itself and perhaps to help Cerise, who was standing a chance and would keep his memory alive in case she won. Glory was a beautiful thing to die for, and although he wasnât already planning it as the squeal penetrated the blackness of the night, he knew it could happen anytime now. All that mattered was how.Â
Not long after the noise that cut his breath and made him cling to his remaining five arrows, Felix stopped walking and turned around on all his rights and all his lefts in attempt to make sure nothing was happening and that he was safe to keep going. There was something in his stomach though that was telling him that they were not just marking an hour or giving a canon the wrong sound. His guts were bleeding danger and he was proven right moments later as a solid silhouette with broad shoulders and a long, fur cape made an appearance from the bushes. He wouldnât have seen them if not for the phosphorescent skin and bright, luminous purple clothing. He didnât recognize the slightly distorted, over-sized face of the human-like creature and couldnât find any connections, but neither did he have to, as the surprise mutt went straight for attacking him. âNo introducing yourself first?â he grinned wickedly, launching an arrow in his direction and not hitting anything important because of the poor light. The arrow got stuck in the manâs shoulder, and he didnât seem phased, though the District One tribute was slowly getting there as he realized he was using his fourth arrow and his stock wasnât going to last. Not to mention that the mutt was getting awfully close and Felix just eyed the heavy and long spear-like scepter he was holding - something made especially for him, he could tell.Â
As the boy started walking backwards, he also tried to target the creature and missed by far. âFuck,â he sighed for himself, worried not only for himself, but that he left Cerise alone in such a moment and she was probably handling it more poorly than he was. Terrible timing. He even heard a canon and thought of the worst without hesitation. It didnât distract him more than the fact that he wasnât exactly winning at the moment in the battle with the Capitol creation, but he had to close his eyes for a moment to cast away any thought parasites and focus again. Three arrows: one in the neck - but the mutt didnât seem to do more than flinch, not even bleeding; one in the leg - but it didnât even trip; one compulsively at the sky before dropping the bow arrogantly and deciding he was wasting precious effort and time with the wrong weapon. Alas, he had no other one, but himself. His hand-to-hand combat skills werenât stellar, but neither were most of the remaining tributesâ and they got so far without an outstanding performance. It was his best shot. Running towards the danger, Felix tried to tackle the monster first, but it was too tall, too heavy and large to let himself be shaken. The scepter got deadly close to him, but he ducked on time and the mutt missed his first hit.Â
District One male felt cornered, although in open field, but running wasnât a lesson they taught them at the Academy. It was better to look death in the eyes and give your best before giving your last breath than making a coward out of yourself and letting them remember you as such. So he tried. He grabbed the weapon confidently, trying to get it from him and switch positions - already making decisions about what to do with the crown he would steal after killing him. Dragging it towards him stubbornly, knowing somehow in his mind that the only way to dethrone the sweets king was to take his weapon and leave him empty handed, Felix watched the sharp object slip through his sweaty fingers - for the second time in that arena being defeated by the same cruel irony. The scepter holed the right side of his chest, straight into a lung. As if sensing his insides shutting down slowly, the king withdrew himself peacefully back into the depth of the candy forest, letting Felix collapse on the ground almost instantly as his breath turned into coughed blood. The wound wasnât even hurting, but the thought that he hurt himself mortally for the second time just as foolishly made him want to scream in frustration. It was all a matter of seconds - maybe minutes if lucky, now.Â
