❝if a victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward or allows other people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money. if you refuse, he kills someone you love. so you do it.❞
ontari nightfall wants revenge after seven year...
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▕▔▔▔▔▔▔▿▔▔▔▔▔▔▏ REFUGE ▕▁▁▁▁▁▁▵▁▁▁▁▁▁▏
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ
KATNISS IS THEone who volunteers to hunt for both food and water. Finnick, exhausted from carrying Mags, does not object when she offers to leave. Peeta is more hesitant to let her go. He volunteers to tag along, but she quickly and gently declines because of the thunk his leg would cause.
By now, Ontari is so thirsty that she's certain she'll go unconscious if they don't find water soon. Most of her body's retained water is quickly being drained from how profusely she's sweating. The humid air, thick with moisture, is like a devilish taunt.
Although she has an alliance now, Katniss still seems to be a lone wolf. This much is evident in how she scampers away, picking across the rainforest overgrowth and soil, before Ontari can offer to accompany her. The older victor stifles down her huff of frustration. How is she supposed to make that girl trust her when she doesn't even give her a chance?
"Make yourself useful, will you?" Finnick jeers teasingly, poking her in the leg with the sharp end of a blade of grass. It's a piece he'd uprooted from the five-foot-tall tufts around them. He and Mags are already making use of their surroundings by weaving the blades into mats, which will be more comfortable to sleep on than the uneven and damp soil. It's sticking to her nylon shoes like another layer of skin. She shivers at the thought of what would happen if she slept on it and what it would do to her actual skin.
Ontari sits cross-legged across from Finnick and closely observes how his deft and nimble fingers work to thread the two pieces of grass together, moving so gracefully it almost seems like a dance. Under, over, under, over, again and again until he reaches the end. A simple knot. Another layer is done.
She tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear and grabs a handful of the long grass blades. With some silent pointers from Mags and occasional tips from Finnick, she manages to complete another mat in around twenty minutes. It's nowhere near as perfect as the District Four members', but it'll serve its purpose.
Finnick works on combining all of the mats. Mags mouths lyrics to a nameless song as she entwines even more blades to create walls, which she eventually connects to the blond boy's finished floor.
As this is occurring, Peeta bounces an armful of nuts off of the force field to roast them. Ontari feels extremely useless in this situation until Mags elbows her. Turning toward the elderly woman, she watches as her wrinkled hands work quickly to weave a round-shaped basin. Ontari slowly sinks to her knees beside Mags so she can observe more closely. Within mere minutes, she has constructed a tightly-woven bowl. The white-haired woman gives her a closed-lipped smile and motions toward the grass that hasn't been used.
"I think that's beyond my skill level, Mags," Ontari admits sheepishly and yet sincerely. The most domestic skill she knows is sewing— District Four offers many projects beyond fishing, but there is only so much for a woman to do with Eight's industry of textiles.
