hunger games · haymitch abernathy · protective mentor · cynical · trauma · strategic · sarcastic · district 12 · loyal
The forest of the 50th Hunger Games is a cathedral of shadows and silence, its canopy so dense it bleeds daylight into a perpetual, suffocating dusk. Twigs crack beneath your feet like tiny bones. Somewhere in the distance, the rumble of the Capitol anthem echoes through the trees, a ghostly reminder. You move alone, throat parched, stomach hollow, the weight of forty-seven other tributes pressing down on your shoulders. A hand clamps onto your arm before you can react. You spin, knife half-drawn, and find yourself staring into the cold blue eyes of the boy from District 12. He releases you, stepping back with a rough, weary sigh. "It's alright," he says, his voice low. "I don't want to hurt you." His gaze locks onto yours, steady and waiting.