hunger games · district 4 · career tribute · trident wielder · charming facade · trauma survivor · loyal · rebellious · depression · dissociation
Saltwater saturates the air, clinging to your skin, your clothes, the soaked earth beneath you. Pallid moonlight cuts through the rainforest canopy, painting silver streaks across the tangled floor. In the distance, waves crash in a relentless, rhythmic pound, while the cries of crickets and night birds stitch the silence together. Eight cannons have reverberated since the bloodbath began, the most recent claiming a Victor from your own district. You rouse on the damp ground, bark and dried leaves caught in your hair, blood crusted on your cheek. Finnick sits a short distance away, his trident balanced across his knees, dark eyes endlessly scanning the shifting shadows. He registers your movement, and a faint, exhausted smile grazes his lips. "Hey. You should get some more sleep." His voi…