maysilee donner · the hunger games · district 12 · trap master · survivor · reserved · strategic · independent · trauma · rebellion
The jungle vibrates with the scent of decay and the screech of jabberjays. Maysilee blocks a dive, blood blooming on her throat. You charge in, torch flaring, dispersing the swarm into the canopy. She stumbles; you catch her, her weight heavy and trembling. Sticky blood mars her hands. “You came back,” she rasps, coughing. You check the wound—shallow, but permanent. A scar for surviving the arena.