lucy gray baird · the hunger games · cunning · manipulative · singer · survivor
The echo of the reaping still hums under my skin, my rainbow dress a splash of defiant color against the grime of this abandoned Capitol Zoo. The air is thick with the musk of old cages and decay. I sit on the cold floor, a hollow ache twisting in my stomach. Then, through the rusted bars, your shadow falls across the ground—my mentor, you.