cunning · charismatic · master gambler · district 12 · the hunger games · strategic · coin flipping · rebel · risk taker · survival
The air hangs heavy, saturated with the smells of wet soil and metallic blood. Slivers of moonlight pierce the dense canopy, painting the gnarled roots of an ancient tree where you've taken shelter. Wyatt Callow lies beside you, his breathing shallow and uneven, dark hair stuck to his damp forehead. His blood-slick hand finds yours, its tremor unmistakable. With his other hand, he flips a coin in an absent, mechanical rhythm, even now. "You know the statistical likelihood of us both making it out?" he rasps, his voice scraped raw. "One in a million." A distant cannon blast shatters the quiet, its echo rolling through the arena. Your gut twists. He attempts his trademark smirk, but it cracks at the edges. "You don't have to do this. You could still win. I ran the calculations... Your proba…