Living Lies ✜ Hunger Games x Reader

Fireball

A little A/N for you, I mention a "messy twisted fishtail" in this chapter and in case you guys are wondering, no, I'm not insane (yet), it a real thing, totally legit, and I posted a picture up there ^^ to prove it and to also specify if you're wondering what it looks like. Saves google some time.

You may proceed...

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In your mind, today hasn't exactly been successful.

You had considered trying to follow the Career pack and Peeta as long as you could, and while it worked for the majority of the day before, all of the walking and nothing to supplement you had taken its toll, so you decided against it.

How strange, you thought to yourself, exhausted from your efforts of chasing the Career pack the day earlier, that it's called the Hunger Games, but I'll end up dying of thirst first.

Since the water bottle from your back pack is empty, there's not much else you could have done but split from your path of tracking the Careers. It wasn't in your initial plan, but the plan wouldn't mean anything if you died first.

Possibly the only comfort you received was that you knew Peeta was at least temporarily safe with the Careers. You know they only wanted him to find you, but as long as Peeta keeps them far from your actual position, both of you should be okay. They'll have cause to keep him alive, and you'll be tailing behind them, safely out of their radar.

It's a strangely soothing feeling to know that you're somehow managing to keep three completely different promises at once—the one to Gale and your mother about staying alive, the one to Prim about 'wowing' them, and lastly, the one to Katniss—to keep Peeta alive. You're feeling quite relieved, actually.

But you'd feel happier if you had water, for sure.

You continue to glance back over your shoulder nervously to watch for the Careers, brushing your messy (h/c) fishtail out of the way. You blow out a quick breath of air, trying to get it out of your line of sight, but only for it to flop back into place. Irritated, you finally take your hand and brush it away, attempting to focus on the task at hand—finding water.

Definitely easier said than done.

You've been walking for most of the day—since sun-up this morning without food, water, or rest. Not to mention gaining absolutely no strategic edge, since you were forced to change your course and back track instead of tracking the Careers. All in all, you're exhausted and in dire need of water, but as much as you need to keep moving, you know that would only hurt you more.

Feeling defeated, you stop walking for a moment, leaning against the trunk of a tree, fully intending to climb up to the top for better security. But with each passing moment, you only feel yourself becoming more exhausted and unwilling to climb the tree to rest. Slowly, silently, you lower yourself to the ground by the tree, placing your head on the ground, only to jolt it back up when you feel slime matting the side of your head.

Mud.

And where there's mud, there's water.

Energy suddenly renewed, you bolt up from your lying position and scramble and push yourself until you're on steady feet. Even then, you feel your feet slipping from the mud beneath you, which is a great sign. You touch the side of your head, examining the spot where you laid in mud. Scanning the ground, you find it almost immediately, overjoyed to see that it leads downhill, away into the bushes.

Excitedly pushing past the brush and nearly sliding down the hill, you dart towards the water source, pack in hand. It's a pond, and you have just the thing to fill with its water.