David and Grace

Wild and unruly, the grand stalks were as she treaded throughout the entanglement. Weeds consumed the vegetables concealed within the grassy plains and diminished the flowers that loitered in the midst of it all. However, this was how Grace preferred it, free and flawed. In the arena, the forest was flawless, for the capitol soaked the life out of the oasis; such a fact was a metaphor for her life. The populace were brainwashed, controlled by the Capital and succumbing to their laws. The deep tenor of his voice dissolved her train of thought. Weaving across the lush environment, she contemplated the probing inquiry. "I was alone, and sure I know how to fight. I was trained to do as much. I even had the potential to win. Yet, I can't look into a person's eyes, see the life reflected in those depths, and then watch it end within an instant. That is where you and I differ," she admitted, her eyes drifting to the skyline. A frown traced the edges of her lips as the flurry of questions eased the expanse of land. "My father is waiting for me. My mother is dead to me," she noted blandly. The moment her mother walked out on her and her father she became a foreign entity, a lost soul.

David listened, letting the tips of his fingers touch the top of each blade of grass. He watched them sway as the wind blew a cool breeze their way. It reminded him of home, in a way. Naomi and he would always fly kites that they had made out of whatever they could find. Sometimes it didn't work, but when it did, the look on his sister's face could make him happy for a lifetime. He was brought out of his daze when he heard her last comment. He felt his jaw tighten, his eyes narrowing. He had his reasons, even if they didn't justify taking a life. "Sometimes it's just what you have to do. You have to be selfish," he said, but he had a feeling Grace wouldn't agree. He wasn't going to lie, though. The faces of the people he had killed in the games haunted him in his sleep. He wasn't sure if he could ever sleep well again. "I don't have a dad, and my mother is hardly ever around. It's just me and my sister," he said quietly.

Discarded branches and thorns prodded at her calves, tearing the thin material of her suit and scraping her calves. Tracing her fingertips through her disheveled locks of hair, she suppressed the frown that traced the edges of her lips. She pressed onward; her intent gaze soaked in the sinking rays of the sun. The final moments of daylight were depleting. Stars speckled the night sky, illuminating the world about them. "Selfish," she scoffed, the simple phrase easing from her lips in pure disgust. "If there was another way...if you knew of a way to escape," she rambled, her grip tightening by a degree, "then why did you go to such drastic measures?" The pieces never seemed to add up; the equation never seemed to match the answer. Out of the corner of her eye, she stole a glimpse in David's direction. "So, you did it for her?" she mused, the statement posed as a mere observation.

David knew that it probably didn't help his case making statements like that, but it was what he believed, although was he really being selfish? He was doing it for his sister, not himself. David bit his lip when he heard her question. "I thought that it was just a lie to get out hopes up, or that the broken part would be fixed by the time the games started," he said. He didn't really think that there was another way out, so he resorted to what the capital wanted him to do, even if it wasn't what he should have done. She seemed to be able to read him like a book, though, for she knew just why he did each horrible act. "Yeah, I did it for her," he said quietly. He only opened up because he knew that the capital couldn't hear him now that he was out of the arena. Or maybe there was another reason. Maybe he liked Grace a little...no. Did he?

Slinking through the tangled mesh, she surveyed the area about them. A pale sliver of light was the only compass she had to guide her through the thicket. The backpack latched upon her shoulders was seemingly growing in weight. Fatigue was slowly taking over. Despite the insight, Grace still didn't agree with the system. She had morals to uphold, and severing a life went against her values. "So, you asked, and I believe I should have the privilege of asking as well. Why didn't you kill me?" she inquired, shifting the grand weight onto one shoulder. With her free hand, she massaged the tension out of her aching muscles. A smile tweaked at the edges of her lips; the piece of information was touching in spite of it all. "I always wanted a sibling, but after my mom left...," she began, her voice tapering off. Her father never remarried; no, he was married to his work. His work included prepping Grace for the games. He was never truly a father. He was her coach, her mentor.

David seemed to be watching the surrounds with a guarded gaze. He wanted to make sure that there was nothing around watching them. He hated the feeling of knowing that the capital was breathing down his neck. When she asked the question, he nearly stopped in his tracks. Why didn't he kill her? He didn't really have a reason to, to begin with. "I would rather not have another face haunting me in my dreams. That and I needed an ally," he said, letting his gaze drop back down to the blades of grass. He listened to her for a moment, understanding where she was coming from. "I've always wanted a dad, but I don't really remember him. Just bits and pieces, and my mother doesn't really talk about him," he said. Naomi seemed to make everything better, though.

Though the pair had escaped the confines of the arena, they were hardly safe. At any moment, a capital aircraft could descend, and they would suffer the consequences. Unlike Jaycee and Dustin, they did not have a speedy getaway through air travel. Thus, the pair had to constantly be on the lookout for the capital soldiers that lurked in the midst. Dunking to avoid a teetering tree branch, she assessed his flimsy explanation. "Then why did you attack Jaycee and Dustin? What compelled you to team up with me now when you know I was on their side?" she inquired, combing her fingers through the tangled thicket. "Was it the capital?" she pressed, her footfalls coming to a sudden halt. "Did they tell you to do it or something? I know those two had ties to the rebels," she rambled on, scouring for an answer to the madness, for pieces of the equation were not adding up. "I just want to understand, David," she whispered, her gaze diverting to the wide expanse of land.

David wanted to explain to Grace why he did what he had done, but the honest truth was that he didn't even know why he did it himself. He couldn't give reasons for his actions, and that was even worse than the capital putting him up to it. He almost had tears in his eyes, but he pushed them back as he ran his hand through his hair, trying to calm himself down. Grace would hate him, but he had to tell her the truth. "The capital didn't put me up to it. I did it because I'm a horrible, desperate person. That's all I can say, and it's totally okay if you hate me. My sister probably does. All of Panem too," he said quietly. He wanted to be able to give closure to everyone, but he couldn't. He had no reason other than that he was a horrible person. He didn't deserve to get out of that arena alive. "I was selfish," he said quietly.

Silence engulfed the pair; only the faint chirp of crickets in the distance filled the empty space. She was reluctant to discover the answer, for she dearly hoped that the capital was the puppet master, controlling David's traitorous acts. As the answer seeped from her lips, she averted her gaze to the clump of mud that coated her boots; she twined her fingers through the overhanging vines, occupying her idle hands. Without a single word, she hurtled on, weaving through the hills. Evidently, she couldn't trust David, not completely. At any given moment, he could turn on her. She was prepared to defend herself if it came down to such drastic measures.

David had expected her to blow up on him, but that didn't happen. No, the worst possible thing was happening. She was leaving him. "Grace!" he called, running after her as quickly as he could. What was she thinking? They couldn't survive on their own! Even if they didn't want to admit it, they needed each other. They were far too vulnerable on their own. "Grace!" he called once more as he started to gain on her. Why didn't she trust him! Okay, she had a pretty good reason, but it was just stupid to leave like that! He finally got close enough, and he grabbed her arm, trying to stop her from going any further. She could really get herself hurt, and he needed someone. He wasn't sure he could make it home alone.

Plowing through the grassy plains, she disentangled the vines that twined about her legs and restricted her. She needed to get out of there and scour the land. Perhaps she would eventually reach a nearby town and a bystander could guide her in the correct direction. What would her father think? He expected her to win, and instead, she forfeited and found a scapegoat. Would he be proud of her, or thrilled that she was alive? Or she would suffer immense disappointment? She tensed when David grasped her arm; it was all she could do not to recoil from his simple touch. "What?" she muttered, her voice a mere hiss that seeped from her lips. "And can you stop screaming? Are you trying to lure in the capital soldiers?"

David narrowed his eyes for a moment as he finally caught up with her. She was the one that ran away without saying anything, and then gets mad at him? "Are you trying to kill yourself going off on your own like that? We are probably in the capital, and we are fugitives now, and you can't make it on your own," he said, taking a few deep breaths as he was still a little winded from running. "Grace, I've done horrible things, I know, but I know that I can't make it back to my sister without you. Please, just trust me this once. The moment you get to your dad's you can drop me like I'm dead weight," he said, looking into her eyes for a moment. Would she accept his offer?

An exasperated sigh spilled from her lips. The fatigue was settling in; throughout the lone hours of the night, it was rare for the tributes to acquire an appropriate amount of sleep. The urge to huddle beneath and tree and delve into the sweet abyss was overwhelming. Nevertheless, the pair were in danger and such an act could shave the precious time they managed to salvage. A frown traced the edges of her lips, assessing the bargain and weighing the options. "Fine, but if you turn out to be a traitor....," she noted, the threat tapering off. Would she have the willpower to end his life if that were the case? She had no idea. "Let's go. We can head upstream and rest a while before sunrise."

David managed to let out a sigh of relief when she finally seemed to realize that he wasn't there to hurt her. He didn't want to! He ran his hands through his hair once more, knowing how the threat would end, but would she really do it? She had said before that she couldn't, so what was different about him? He wasn't planning on turning on her considering he needed her to get back to his sister. He started to walk with her, glancing over for a moment. "Whenever we find a place to settle down, I'll take the first shift so you can sleep," he said. While he was tired, he didn't think that he could sleep at the moment. Not with the reminder of everything that he had done fresh on his mind. He still felt like a horrible person.

Twisting fine tendrils of hair between her fingertips, she collected her muddled thoughts. Despite her lack of faith in David, she was determined to remain in the tight knit group until she was secure beneath her four walls. Home. Home was not faraway now. Dipping further into the enclosure, she intently listened for the sound of water trickling about the space. A stream resided just up ahead; a cave would conceal the pair for the night, deterring the soldiers. A frown traced the corners of her lips, and she stole a glimpse over her shoulder at David. "Are you sure?" she inquired, apprehension coating the inquiry. Could she trust him?

David let his eye wander to the cave just up ahead. It seemed almost too good to be true, really. Was it a trap? Or maybe he was just overthinking things. He could hear how skeptical Grace was, but he didn't blame her at all. She had every reason to be skeptical. "I'm sure. I'm not very tired, and you look like you could drop at any moment," he said, giving her a sideways glance. He knew that she probably feared he would do something while she was asleep or leave her, but there wasn't really a way that he could try and prove her wrong. He was just going to have to try and earn her trust, as hard as that was going to be. As he came to the stream, he took some water in his palms and splashed it on his face, trying to cool down after running after Grace. "It's nice and cool," he commented.

The cave was partially concealed by the overhanging foliage; the enthralling oasis was almost too grand to be true. Nevertheless, their options were limited, and they needed to retire for the night if they expected to navigate throughout the forest. Hunching forward, Grace dipped her hands into the spring. The frigid waters lapped upon her nimble fingers, cleaning the residue that caked under her nails. "I haven't slept well," she admitted, her teeth piercing the fine flesh of her bottom lip. Every night the fire of the canon echoed about her thoughts, ringing in her ears. Memories of the blood bath were ingrained into her thoughts; when she closed her eyes, she saw the grassy plains bathed in rich blood. Quivers swept over her, and she splashed the cool droplets across her face to sever the distinct images. Grasping the canteen, she filled it to the brim, for there would come a time they would not have these precious resources. "Ready?" she inquired, stifling a yawn.

David took his hands and cupped them, dipping them in the water and drinking as much as he could. He could feel the cool liquid as it eased down his throat, chilling the rest of his body. The arena had been so hot, so it was nice to finally have something so cool. He put a little bit of the cool water in his hair before standing, nodding towards Grace. He could tell that she had something on her mind, but he wasn't going to pry. He grabbed the knife by his side just in case he would need to during the night. He sat down by the mouth of the cave, leaning on to the cold walls. "I'll wake you in a few hours," he said simply. She looked like she needed her sleep, so he would probably let her sleep a little bit longer. He wasn't even sure if he would be able to go to sleep.

Skimming her fingertips over the smooth surface of the stream, the water rippled under her gentle touch. The quaint alcove secured the pair; the canopy of leaves that stretched out around them served as a shield from any hovercrafts that surged in the distance. Sparing a glimpse in David's direction, she suppressed a faint trill of laughter; the damp tendrils were plastered to his cheekbones, framing his features. The mere image washed away the lasting signs of tension; amusement glistened in her irises. Rifling through her bag, she produced the sleeping bag and nestled inside. Her eyes almost immediately drooped closed. "I will only need a couple of hours, then be sure to wake me up," she mumbled, the vague request seeping from her lips in a mere breath. Seconds after, she was lured into a luxurious slumber.

David watched as the rise and fall of Grace's chest started slow, the breaths becoming naturally deeper as she eased into sleep. He realized in those few moments how alone they really were. It was just the two of them and the vast wilderness for who knows how long. He wondered how exactly the two of them were going to make it out of there, but he had to believe in them. He ran his fingers along the hilt of his knife, trying to keep himself awake as he listened to the sounds of the creatures of the night. Everything seemed to be up and moving at this hour, but he tried not to let it get to him so much. His eyes flickered to the mouth of the cave when he thought that he saw something. Could it really be someone out there? Or could it just be his mind playing tricks on him? He slowly started to move, inching towards the opening slowly. With the knife gripped in his hand, he surveyed the area.

Cloaked within the shadows was a heathen, adorned in weapons and seething with rage. As a capital soldier, his sole purpose was to scope out the tributes who crossed the boundary lines. Within a twenty-four hour radius, they had lost four tributes, and the president was spitting mad. Slinking through the brambles that littered the space, he squinted into the cave; a luminous glow spawned from the moon highlighted two beings - both potential survivors that departed from the arena. Unsheathing his sword, he glided into the mouth of the cave and pinned one to the stone wall. His sword glinted an ray of pure light, splashing over his foe. "I will definitely receive a pay raise for this," he mused, the snide remark dripping with malice.

David kept as quiet as he could, but it seemed that something else gave him away because he felt a force pin him to the cool wall of the cave. In the moonlight, he could see the flash of the metal of a sword, something a whole lot better than his simple knife, but he was just going to have to work with what he had. "If only you were going to make it out alive," he spat before plunging the knife into the man's abdomen or somewhere around that area. So much for not hurting anyone else. He swung his fist towards the man's face and grabbed his sword before rushing to Grace, shaking her all the while. "Now would be a great time to wake up," he said, the urgency clear in his voice. He was just glad that he knew the cameras weren't rolling anymore. Whatever he did out here, his sister wouldn't know about it.

A scowl surfaced on his opponent's features. The silver blade was a mere inch from puncturing his neck and severing him in two. A cry pierced the air, startling the sleeping beauty curled along the outskirts of the gave. The sword clattered to the cave floor, a definite ring resounded about the chambers, echoing on a constant continuum. A groan surpassed from Grace's lips; the ground was sodden. Dew sprinkled the space, creating a slick surface. "What's going on?" she protested. However, the silver glow of the moon bore down on the pool of blood that splattered the ground. Scooping up the sleeping bag, she rushed to the mouth of the cave, all the while tugging on her boots. "How the hell did they find us?"

David took a few heavy breaths as his opponent fell. He hoped that one day he would become immune to all of the faces he saw him his sleep, but it didn't seem like that would happen anytime soon. In fact, it looked like he was going to have to add another face to that list. He snapped out of his daze when he heard Grace finally speak. He looked up, starting to wipe the blood off of the knife before grabbing some things. "I don't know how they found us, but all I know is that we need to get out of here before someone else finds us," he said, the urgency in his voice clear as he started to pack things back into the backpack that he had first gotten. He wasn't sure how long it would take to get to her house, but they needed to get there as quickly as possible. "Let's get you home," he said, his eyes trailing to her.

Vibrant and daunting, the pool of scarlet was; it was a dull reminder of the havoc that David could reek on her life. He was dangerous, a force that could obliterate her existence. What if that were his intentions, to weld in her trust before ultimately ending her life? Or what if he was secretly the government's puppet, doing their biding? The instances were far fetched, and she possessed a sliver of trust for this man. Nonetheless, the mere grotesque image sent a chill crawling down her spine. "So much for keeping a low profile," she muttered under her breath; was it remotely necessary to end the man's life? The sheer fact that he was dead would only raise alarm to the capital and endanger their lives, more so than before. "Yeah, all right," she noted, the notion a mere grumble under her breath as she gathered her belongings and stretched out her limbs. Home. What if there wasn't even a home to come to?