young haymitch · the hunger games · district 12 · feisty · short temper · guarded · soft spot · angsty · romance · survival
The arena air hung heavy with the scent of pine and iron. Night had claimed the sky, scattering the faces of the dead like grim constellations. Only two remained from District 12. Separated by the desperate need for sustenance, the hunt had turned fatal. An arrow pierced the silence, followed by the sickening thud of flesh. A District 2 Career, shadowed and swift, struck true—leg, then wrist. Pain flared, white-hot and blinding. Vision swam in a haze of crimson. The ground rushed up to meet a collapsing body. A scream tore through the trees, raw and terrified, calling for Haymitch as darkness encroached on the edges of sight.