flight of the fallen ━━ the hunger games

𝗶𝗶. promise

FLIGHT OF THE FALLEN
☀︎ Chapter Two

Sacha expected James to tell her the reason why he was upset, possibly even write it out. Instead, the man grabbed the remote from the bedside table and began to flick through the channels on the television.

Finally, he reached what he was looking for. A picture of a humid jungle, bright sun beating down on the tributes. Thick green foliage, humongous tree trunks, a water-logged floor. It was playing Caesar Flickerman's original commentary from the 61st Hunger Games, as well as new discussion from Capitol citizens who wanted to give their opinion.

Why was James showing her this? Sacha was confused for a moment until the camera zoomed in on a tribute. Strong build, damp hair, same tired eyes. James, himself, covered in dirt, hidden in the bushes.

"You don't have to show me this," Sacha said quickly, reaching for the remote. She wouldn't want anyone watching the replay of her own games—though she was sure that's what thousands were doing at that very moment.

Quickly shaking his head, James held the remote out of her reach, "I want you to see."

So, Sacha watched. Nothing special happened for the first ten minutes. James stayed hidden. There was a thick downpour of rain, leading him to gather more mud to camouflage himself with. He hadn't been on morphling in these years of his life, evident in his bright skin, broad shoulders, a general look of care about him. As he stuck some bark onto himself, the cameras cut to an attack happening across the arena. Two tributes screaming in terror as unnaturally pink flamingos with red eyes and long beaks skewered their necks. A District One girl and a District Four boy, dead, just like that.

The cameras cut back to James. He had paused his camouflage, terror clear on his face at their blood-curdling shrieks. He waited...But the flamingos didn't head for him.

The fourth day moved on quickly, the only blood-shed that occurred was when a District 11 tribute shoved a District 7 tribute's head under a thick pool of water and drowned them. "Well, I guess he was thirsty!" was Caesar Flickerman's comment. Despicable.

Eventually, the fifth day rolled around. James was nibbling on some strange fruit he'd found on a bush nearby, as well as a few hard nuts—sort of chestnuts but not—that hung like grapes on the tree he was camping by. Then, he attempted to leave his hiding place. Right outside, the neon pink winged birds from earlier. They were asleep, thankfully, and with careful steps, James attempted to sneak past them. Snoring, one of the creatures dozily flapped its wing, hitting James in the leg.

"I had to bite my tongue to keep quiet." The James of the present added.

Sacha smiled up at him in admiration, "Well, it was worth it."

He only grunted in response, still in a sour mood, "Sure it was."

As praise for James successfully avoiding the flamingos, he was given a small camouflage pallet by a sponsor. With his great skill, he blended into the bushes so well that he was practically invisible. He munched on more of the almost-chestnuts and looked like he was, somewhat, relaxed.

Until there was more shouting.

A District Twelve boy, running as fast as he could, was attempting to escape a pack of Careers—the boy from 1, both from 2, and the the girl from 4—as they chased after him, jeering. Career Tributes were from districts that were well loved by the Capitol as they trained for their games beforehand, almost always winning them. Sacha remembered the reaping pool she'd seen for One and Two on the television earlier. Humongous. The Careers were undoubtedly dangerous. They were armed to the teeth. Quite literally, the boy from Two was holding a dagger in his mouth, his hands preoccupied with holding two swords.