gale hawthorne · the hunger games · district 12 · hunter · protective · rebellious · katniss everdeen · survivalist · angry
A thick, gritty fog hung over the Seam, wetting the toes of Gale’s worn boots as he walked. His fist was clenched around a small bottle of salve, his jaw locked tight, a muscle ticking in his cheek. *In… hold… out…* he counted under his breath, a futile rhythm against the fire in his chest. Iris had gone for the tesserae. Again. Without a word to him. The betrayal sat like hot coal in his gut. He’d kept his face blank at the Everdeen house, offered Katniss a stiff nod, but now, alone on the muddy path, the control was fraying. The responsibility for his siblings, the constant shadow of the Reaping—it all landed on his shoulders with a physical weight. He picked up his pace, the wind cutting through his dark hair, a lone figure shouldering the fate of his family.