#ringina

The Hunger Games Books + Newcomers

“For one thing, it means we haven’t spent our whole lives buying into the Games as something we aspire to.”

“We’re not collaborators,” says Ringina.

“Right. But we’ll fight if we have to,” says Ampert. “We need a good name for people who are just starting something hard. A district name.”

Treech hate

Lamina hate

Coral hate

Mizzen hate

Lucy Gray hate

Lenore Dove hate

Wyatt Callow hate

Ringina hate

Sejanus hate

Gale hate

Johanna hate

the gong rings out through the air, singing through a silence that's fallen over us. the girl beside me turns abruptly and dashes away from the cornucopia, her long black hair ripping through the wind as she moves. I glance to my left, and the small boy who was there moments ago is lithely darting towards the center, towards the noise. Towards the bloodshed.

My legs are frozen, my heart pounding in my ears, blood rushing through my veins, and in that moment I feel so acutely aware of each beat that pulses through my body, the warmth that slowly drains out of me as I see Silka emerging from the cornucopia.

her white cape, torn and now draped like a gown across her body, is splattered with crimson that seeps deep within the fabric. Her long blond waves are held behind her ears with a scrap of fabric, and in her sculpted hands she holds an axe glistening with blood, blood as red as the pigment that dyes her cape.

And that's when i run. I turn on my heel, departing the podium I've been cemented to and I break away from the center where I can hear shrieks cutting through the morning sky. no birds sing. no one mourns the little boy once to my left that now lays in pieces, bleeding out into the vibrant green lawn.

my feet tear the through grass and my thighs burn but a fear claws at my throat and my breath escapes me as i begin to stumble. my feet tangle amongst an invisible bramble, slashing at my ankles with vicious carelessness. the hill i've defeated the apex of now glowers at me as I tumble to the bottom.

all the air in my lungs rushes out as i land on my back with a definitive crash and as I part my eyes, sun bears down at me. It scowls, staring at me with something akin to disappointment. i wouldn't run, i'd promised myself. i'd promised merrilee that i would not run.

but i got scared.

I got scared and i ran and what does that say about me? when it truly matters, i was selfish and i ran. i was supposed to get supplies and find hay, i was supposed to look out for him. but i was selfish.

how useless can i be, lying here, moping to myself? pitying myself?

I push myself up from my back, propping myself up with my arms and slowly blinking and allowing in sunlight. sound returns to me, and i hear the soft trickling of a stream to my left. I turn my head, a deep throb and ache consuming my skull from my neck to my temples. breath labors me, but i shift my weight so i can see the water.

a teal stream ripples before me, water crystal and trickling along smooth, grey rocks, glossy with water. sunlight reflects along the stones littering the side of the stream, a shimmering light that reaches my legs that are turning purple with bruises.

I've given up on the idea of standing, no less walking to the water, so I crawl on my knees to the rocky shore. the fabric of my pants scrapes against the stones, and gravel presses against my knees through the clothing, but the pain washes away as I dip my fingertips into the water.

cool liquid winds between my fingers, stones tumbling as i swirl my hand through the stream. it's peaceful, truly calm and peaceful, and I stare out at the innocent and gorgeous landscape of sloping green hills that stretch out before me.

something shifts behind me, maybe a stick or some stones, but I turn around as quickly as I can, my neck screaming with distress, but I snatch a stone in my right hand and brandish it at whatever it was behind me.

it's the girl.

my hand shakes as i clutch the stone, but she bears no visible weapons and she stands a few feet away from me holding a small satchel, one of the ones that littered the field around the cornucopia.

she stares at me without a trace of fear and I glare at her, mustering as much confidence as i can as my arm trembles from the act of holding a stone once light that now weighs my entire forearm down.

i can see her face better now, her features defined by sun. her long nose and bridge cast a shadow over her face, but her narrowed brown eyes glint in the light, bits of gold shining speckled throughout. her deep gold skin is scattered with freckles, likely from time in the sun. she's tall, taller than me, but she's thin and poorly built, with long, nimble fingers that are worn from use.

she takes a step closer to me, and although i brandish my stone, i instinctively back away, closer to the stream. She laughs.

Her laugh is not cruel, but little humor rings through.

"I remember you from training," she says. her voice is kind but unforgiving, and I can't help the wariness I feel.

She feigns hurt when I don't respond and continues approaching me.

yk who i am im anon because i feel like i ask you too many times lol

there’s so such thing as too many asks, i love receiving them!

ringina wald.

regina is 17 years old and feels spiritually connected to the forrest. she’s able to use an axe like it’s an extension of her hand to prefers to only chop trees she believes are dying. she’s a firm believer in using things she finds in the first to make spells. she’s well liked and has many friends, but she’s especially close to her cousin: autumn haywood.

autumn haywood.

autumn is 16 years old and an all around lovely girl. she especially loves flowers, reading, and daydreaming. despite being a bit too old, she loves to join her cousin in the forest and pretend they’re in some grand adventure.