}Bird of the Summer{ [H/S/W fight]

[cameron]

ooo
You came with the season, as the first swallow sang
A brown headed stranger, with a five-letter name.
ooo

[/color][/center]

Morning came much too soon for the only surviving Tribute from the fourth District of Panem, and as the reds, maroons, lavendars, and fuschias coalesced to become one great rising sphere on the horizon, Winona Kirby—who, at that time, was wrapped loosely in the large grey tarp she had been carrying since the end of the Bloodbath—rolled slowly onto her side and leaned up on one elbow, her face propped up in her hand. With the other hand, she reached forward and slid her fingers through the air almost parallel to the ground, tracing the nonexistent outline of what could have been a person's body. Her tear ducts were quite dry from the constant overflow the entire night. The rivulets of salt water had left a sticky residue down her cheeks. Foggy, glazed-over eyes focused irresolutely on her swaying fingers before her.

There was a strange, melodic silence filling the Arena that morning. On any given day, the girl would never be awake at such an hour, as she always seemed to require a much larger amount of sleep than most persons she knew; however, the sleepless night resulted in her senses, for whatever reason, awakening at a much earlier time than ever before for the Tribute. Body pumping, blood pulsing, she felt much stronger than she had the entire duration of the Games at that point. And she realized something then: she could do this. She had to do this. There was no way Winona would wallow in pity for any longer. Pushing herself off the ground, the blonde stood up and stretched her body into the air achingly, her spine and elbows both making cracking sounds. Turning to the place in which she attempted to sleep, the Tribute gathered her tarp up and stuffed it in her satchel. With a swig of water, she headed away from where His death had taken place and back to the only place she really knew in the Arena: the volcano.

---

[/blockquote]

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

---------
And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
---------

“Shh, shh, don’t worry. We’ll be just fine.” Storm’s free hand kept smoothing Heron’s hair, trying to comfort her as best he could. He knew that their trip to the volcano would terrify her, especially since that was where she had lost the lower half of her legs. There was nothing more that he could do than hold her close and make sure that she didn’t see anything. Didn’t do anything for the smell of lava or the rumbling sound from under his feet. If Storm wasn’t care, then surely he would be in the same condition as Heron, crawling around and trying to survive.

The night before, Storm had taken his time to stare at the Anthem, to comprehend all of the deaths. It was the only the fourth day—or was it the fifth?—and there were only nine tributes left. He had stared at the sleeping girl in his care once he realized what that meant. Eight other tributes and one of them was Heron. He kept his face hidden, trying not to show anyone that he was crying. He didn’t want to lose her, but he couldn’t imagine killing her. And as selfish as it sounded, he didn’t want to die either. He had his family to go back to, his sisters to raise. He knew Sundra would to a good job taking over his role, but he wanted to be there too. He wanted to see Sundra be successful in her life; to see Europa become the gentle, young woman he was sure she would grow into; and to see Io become the happy, hardworking big girl that her sisters were.

But then there was Heron. She had family too—all of the other tributes had family to go back to. He knew that there was no possibility that he could strike the final blow at her, not when they were this close. It had only been two days since Ana’s death and yet they were already close, fighting the District 3 girl and District 7 boy together. It was amazing how quickly they could overcome the awkward tension to which they joined the alliance in the first place, and it was sad at the same time. His mentor had told him not to make connections, not to establish relationships—and that was exactly what he did do. He made connections at the training stations, causing unspoken truces. He had established relationships with his allies, reacting to every misfortune placed on them. The worst of it was that he could not change anything about it; he could not rewind his past and he was not sure he wanted to either.

Another deep rumble caused Storm to look down at where his feet were stepping. He had done his best to walk back the same way that the two had gone down the volcano, but it was possible that the consistency of the ground changed while the two had been in the forest. And after they reached the spot where Ana died? Where would they go from there? All he knew was that they needed to get back to the hotspring they had grabbed their water from. Between the two of them, there were only two iodine tablets left, but it was better to have some water than no water at all.

His eyes brushed past the spot where he last saw Ana, a wave of hurt filling his body. His mind tried to console him, telling him that they were close to the water source, but Storm couldn’t give it up. He couldn’t help feeling shameful for watching his ally die like that. If he could have grabbed her wrist earlier, if he had done a better job killing Soren early—but there was no point in avenging her death at that point. Soren was already dead. Storm wanted to applaud the tribute who had killed that sorry boy, but he didn’t have the heart to do it. At that time, Soren became another lost life, another tribute who would not be able to see his parents, his siblings, and in Soren’s case, his wife and daughter.

Storm used his shoulder to softly nudge Heron. “Heron, I need to refill a water jug, okay? I’m going to put you down but just know that I’m right here. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

[/b] Storm’s eyes stared down as he put his ally on the hard surface by the hot spring they had collected water from earlier. As he filled the empty jug with water, He wished that he could fulfill his promise forever, but he knew that one day, it would have to be broken. One day, he would not be able to protect her.[/color]

((Storm's not going to see her until she attacks. xP))[/size][/blockquote]

[Tsarashi 2.0]

The night before when the anthem had played Heron could only lay on the ground staring up at the sky in denial. Soren and Snip were both gone in the same day. The two people that she had truces with, gone along with three others who were simply not as important to the District Twelve tribute. They and Storm were the only people left that she would have wanted to win since they were honest, good people. The three of them talked sparingly at the training center, but it was enough for Heron to get enough emotionally attached that their deaths stung her as bad as her own ally’s had.

Soren, her district partner and the pale boy from Four were alone though, when in all right they should have their ally next to them since they probably died in the same place. What had happened to that girl from Four? Had she left them to die while she ran? Had she no honor, to stay with her companions until the very end? Scenarios played out in Heron’s head, each one worse than the last, portraying the blonde as the sinister villain in her plots. ”I swear to god, if I ever see her again…” She drifted off, mumbling silently in the crook of Storm’s neck as he carried her on his back.

They had been walking for what felt like days, her lips were cracked, her hands were shaking and she had been feeling pain in places she no longer had for the past half an hour. Hopefully that was normal. But those ailments didn’t affect her companion’s movements forward. When she had finally brought herself to look up at where they were her body stiffened and her eyes widened with the blood chilling fear that filled her veins. Now at least she had an excuse for her absent lower extremities to be hurting. When her grip tightened around his shoulders she wanted to ask him what they were doing back at the volcano, but she already knew the answer. They hadn’t found what they were looking for, so they had decided to go back the other direction.

She hadn’t expected the severity of her panic attack and his comfort was extremely welcome. Heron had bit back her tears, but to do so she spent the time filling the silence with words of hope and words of promise. Over the past days she had grown far closer to Storm than she had ever expected, and she trusted him with tales of her past and wishes for her future. It didn’t matter if he was listening to her quiet rambling or not, it was just nice to have someone to talk about it with. ”… and I wanna live as a girl and finally be me. I wanna have my own family and love the person I cherish; to live safe and happy with him and forget all about these games. I want people to know the person I really am, like Fletcher did… kinda. I won’t be runnin’ all over the damn volcano. I’ll be sittin’ next to a warm fire with a cup of hot chocolate…”

Talking did little to ebb her fears, but it kept her hysterics at bay. Somewhere along the way, though, her words became incoherent mumbles against his shoulder. The same shoulder that nudged her to get her attention. When she looked up she had almost screamed ‘Why have you brought us back here!?’. This was a graveyard, where their alliance member had been killed by her District partner, who was also dead. All of her words caught though, as if deciding that she had spoken enough that day. Heron allowed herself to be lowered to the rock, but her hand had somehow grabbed his arm in a weak embrace, silently pleading with him not to leave her. But of course, that kind of weakness disgusted her, even though she had been feeling it a lot lately. She pried her hand from his arm and, like her words, put it to work with something else, which happened to be trailing her finger through the warm water of the hotspring that she hoped was not stained with blood.

[cameron]

ooo
My cheeks red like fire engines racing
Straight to the heat of your skin.
ooo

[/color][/center]

Oceanic eyes darted across the barren landscape casually, searching for some sort of shade from the hot, beating sun of the Arena. The only place she could remember being comfortable in the Games at that point was the hot springs she had used previously to fill her water jugs, but Winona wasn’t quite sure he wanted to go back there. She had plenty of water left to drink—the blonde could easily last another week on her current water supply; however, she did need to find food but she didn’t know exactly where to find such. All of the animals she had seen were poisonous, and there were almost no plants at all to eat. It would have been helpful if she had taken that trapping station after all.

But no, that was where He was supposed to protect her. He was the one who could find them shelter and other necessities for survival. He was the puppeteer; she was the puppet. And now that He was gone forever, it was all up to Winona Kirby to fend for herself. It was settled, then. The remaining Tribute of Four would fight for her life from then on and not let anything get in her way. No tears, no sadness, no desperation.

She decided, then, to head towards the hot spring and take a dip in it. Maybe it would soothe her mind, and she needed that. Walking in that general direction, she repeated the names of the surviving Tributes over and over in her head. Katie, Daniella, Zack, Maia, Zuka, Nadene.. Heron and Storm. The last two names always came slightly separated from the other six, and memories of their brief encounter flowed throughout her repetition. In those few minutes Winona had known Heron and Storm, one of their allies had been pushed down a cliff to her death by Him. When she stopped to remember and think about it, it was quite a depressing scene. What if she had been the girl from District One? What if she had suffered an unfortunate demise so early in the Games when tens of thousands of people had been relying on her back home after the First District females had performed so well the past few years? Even in her dying moments she couldn’t have handled the pressure. People affected her too much.

As she reached the hot spring at the side of the volcano, she began to remove her top from her body. Pulling it over her head, the neckhole got caught on her chin, and she struggled to get it over her face. A strange wave of paranoia fell over her as she realized it was possible that while she was without vision something—or someone—could end her life and she couldn’t defend herself in any way. Panicking, Winona ripped the top and swiped it off her body quickly. With a glance around her, she found no one whatsoever to be anywhere near her.

Winona spoke too soon. In the distance, two people approached her, and she could make out their outline from afar. Definitely humans, she noted, so there was no worry of poisonous muttations ending her life. Of course, there was the ever-present threat of a Tribute stabbing her in the eye or disemboweling her, but she tried to keep that out of her thoughts.

Straining her pale blue eyes, Winona attempted to make out who the figures were. At first she thought they were both males, but then she began to see the difference in one of them. And then it hit her. The male was definitely Storm Wie when she focused her vision on him. And the girl, of course, was Heron. Immediately her palms began to sweat and her head began to ring. She couldn’t hide here; there was nowhere to get full cover from anyone. If this had been the typical Arena with trees everywhere there would have been no problem for her hiding in one until the two went by; but, in this Arena, there was nowhere.

And so she walked towards them. There was no reasoning behind her doing so, but Winona’s feet propelled her forward in the direction of Storm and Heron. She was sure they would want her dead after what had happened to their ally—and Heron even more after the death of her District partner. The blonde told herself she wouldn’t cry, but, as she placed one foot in front of the other, a small trace of salty liquid could be seen welling in her eyes. There was something rather depressing about coming to your imminent death; but at least she was doing it stalwartly, not chickening out and fleeing the scene. She was brave. And if Winona Kirby died that day, she’d take to the grave the recently learned knowledge of her own bravery, her own strength, and her own willpower.

Her uncle had always told her she was nothing. Her uncle was wrong.

As she reached the two, she allowed her tears to permeate her eyes and seep down her cheeks, pausing for a moment at the peak of her cheekbone before continuing to steadily drip to the ground. Turning her head upwards, Winona looked at Heron straight on as the tears continued to flow. ”He’s gone. Heron, he’s gone, and I’m sorry.”

With a quick swipe of her paw to her face, the Tribute removed the salt water from her face. Azure eyes were now bloodshot, stained with the painful tears of a renewed self. She was stronger, more passionate. She took nothing for granted now. Life was precious, not something to be wasted with petty ‘love’ and hidden insecurities. Gripping her pike tightly, she spoke once again to Heron. ”I’m sorry.” And with a stab of her weapon, her only hope—something that could protect her much more effectively than He could now—Winona Kirby was reborn.

Attacks Heron with spear.
[dice=200+3000]
Shallow cut on stomach. 4.0

[/blockquote]

ooo
And I know our days are numbered, early bird of the summer
You’ll fly south just as the fall begins
ooo

[/color][/center]
[rand=29501644195988774895154197700321765628701006062335394017531070858]

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

Storm had felt the tight grip on his arm that was suddenly released. He looked towards Heron and gave her as best of a comforting smile he could. A shaky hand reached out and took her hand, patting it lightly. Once he had filled the water jug, he took the moment to rest before looking at Heron. “We had better move on if we want to try to find some food soon.” He took the frail girl into his arms as he shifted his bag and Ana’s satchel so that he could hold on to Heron comfortably. It made him feel bad that they had to move around so much, especially in a place so treacherous, but if they were to soothe their grumbling stomachs, then they would have to move as soon as possible.

“Just let me know if you need a break,” he said gently, assuming that having to stay in a person’s arms could hardly be comfortable. He never really had the opportunity to experience being held tenderly in the arms of someone older than him; his parents were never the type of people to baby him nor did they have the time. So all of his years of experience was based on comforting his sisters and his younger sisters in particular were very good at whining if he was carrying them too much. Then he would just hand them off to Sundra who—Shit! What day is it today?

He hadn’t meant to but he stopped in his tracks and nearly dropped Heron, his hold on her loosening as he became preoccupied with the thought that he actually missed a sibling’s birthday. While most people seemed to easily forget the age of their siblings, Storm had been so used to raising them that the only thing he could never tell them was the time they were born. He made sure that they would have a good birthday no matter what happened; even if they were low on money and could not afford to make an expense, Storm wanted his sisters to be able to say that they enjoyed turning whatever their new age was…and he could not stop thinking about what Sundra would think about her 17th birthday. His parents were never good when it came to being all lovey-dovey with their children, and Storm wasn’t sure if his younger sisters would take up the challenge. “Shit, I’m so sorry, Sundra. I can’t believe I f***ing missed your birthday.” Now she’s all grown-up…

His attention was brought back to his ally, slipping from his arms during his moment of being difficult on himself. “Oh gosh, sorry about that, Heron,” he apologized as he re-adjusted his hold on her. What if she had fallen and hurt herself? You know she needs you right now! Gosh, Storm, get your act together. As much as Storm wanted to tell off his mental voice, he had to agree that he needed to stay concentrated. It would do no good if he slipped away for just a moment. With that new thought in mind, Storm set off once again, heading in a direction opposite of the one they had come in.

Again, he stopped in his tracks but the stalling offense was more physical than just a reminder about his sister’s birthday; Winona was walking towards them. Maybe she can help us out…It’s not like we’re really enemies, not after our time at the self-defense station. Had Storm any free arms, he would have waved at the blonde girl, grinning at her presence. Fatigue set in though, and all he could manage was a tired smile as he carried Heron over.

Just when he was about to greet her, he noticed that there was something troubling Winona…or there must have been as she was crying. The only words he was able to catch were something along the lines of “dead” and he guessed that she was talking about her allies. He nodded to himself; it only made sense that she would react that way to the deaths of the two. Storm had no particular feelings for the two boys, but he knew from experience that losing an ally was a complicated matter.

An eyebrow arched as Winona apologized. What is she--? Storm had asked himself until he saw what she was doing. He tried to move Heron out of the way, but it was too late as Winona’s pike made contact with Heron’s stomach. It didn’t look like a deep cut, but Storm was still enraged. “We’re using the other tactic,” he muttered to his Heron as he put her on his back, just as he had while fighting the other two from the forest. While he didn’t like the idea of fighting Winona, he also could not allow her to harm Heron.

((attacks Winona; battle axe))
[dice=200+11000]
((Shallow cut on forehead; 4.5))

The damage didn't appear to be too bad, but Storm felt sick to his stomach just seeing the cut. He had no problem attacking the other tributes, but there was something about attacking Winona that made him want to throw up. But he wouldn't...not while Heron was still there. He couldn't let her see how weak he felt, how his knees were beginning to shake. It would do nothing for their confidence.

[rand=03450413157264453674692511038818072795969438997511912173561942685]

[Tsarashi 2.0]

(Just a short filler to get things going.)

Heron freaks out, squirming and such. "You killed them! It's your fault they're dead!" Wanting to run but knowing that's not an option any more, leans around Storm (holding onto his shoulder) and attacks with the force of a full person!

[[Attacks Winona, knife]]
[dice=200+2000]
[[Shallow Cut on Right Hip, 3.5]][rand=865271648822846586383198581851638636519218420523279787982246113]

[cameron]

ooo
lyrics!
ooo

[/color][/center]

Fillerfillerfiller. Mainly she apologizes again, wipes her eyes, looks to Storm, apologizes again, turns back and attacks Heron.
[Attacks Heron with spear]
[dice=200+3000]
Stabbed in Stomach, 9.5 (holy shit, it was one number away from stabbed in eye.)

AND THEN SHE STOPS CRYING.

[/blockquote][rand=27006610622629523369760447181761264762032106518745470918347989209]

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

Filler because I still have to write a poem and won't be online for the next two days. D:

Storm can feel Heron just trying to get away and watches as she attacks Winona.
Feels kinda bad but at the same time, it's all to make sure that Heron stays alive.

Storm goes, "D:!! You attacked Heron! And she's hurt! Grrr!!"

So he attacks Winona.
((Attacks Winona; battle axe))
[dice=200+11000]
((Shallow cut on right forearm, 3.5))

Sick with himself. Just wants it all to end.

[rand=95048295658883083469849097176624561750623720045959015928831242]

[Tsarashi 2.0]

Another filler since I too will not be on for the next two days -_- Talent show and traveling.

Doesn't care that Winona apologizes, adamantly believes that she was the soul reason why Snip and Soren are dead. She hates not being able to fight on her own two feet, but it grateful that Storm is fighting with her. "You're a terrible person, yada yada. You never deserved their commitment!"

[[Attacks Winona, Knife]]
[dice=200+2000]
[[Deep Gash on Left Calf, 8.0]]

[[ooc- How the heck would that happen? ^,^ Also one away from stabbed in eye D:]] [rand=928432714981622496067376479784620487116708111885451304113070907278]

[cameron]

ooo
lyricssssssssss.
ooo

[/color][/center]

Filler because, yeah, same reasons.

Winona DOESN'T ATTACK. She stops and looks them in the eye, and runs back to the hot spring. There she sits.

[/blockquote][rand=91204035491682593795472267083823799194258940406148040608440060169]

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

Filler! And I don't even have Storm's colors...


((attacks Winona; battle axe))
[dice=200+11000]
((Shallow Cut on Right Hip; 3.5))

Yay? Storm's not happy with his decision to attack someone who isn't attacking back but eh, w/e. The fight needs to go on...

[rand=14665556139187774331188425275245170540125567230578253645599394780068]

[Tsarashi 2.0]

[[We'll fill these fillers out when we get the time... right? Even if the day is over? !I have Talent show at the moment!]]

Heron goes with Storm since she really doesn't have much of a choice in the matter. She hates Winona, there's no doubt about it. She felt no guilt attacking her again, even after they made eye contact.

[[Attacks Winona, knife]]
[dice=200+2000]
[[Miss, 0.0]][rand=194994587898198916767260805944628680918258168656408398337868406813]

[cameron]

ooo
lyrics surely do go here.
ooo

[/color][/center]

Bitches be following me? Oh it's on, girlfriend.
Attacks Heron
[dice=200+3000]
Miss. 0.0

[/blockquote][rand=2999827938620001767752017825841997004219470545655364088392816484]

[ᕙʕ•ᴥ•ʔᕗ]

((I'll get to this later tonight but I just got home and I kinda want to relax.))

Storm wants to put down his battle axe and actually does as he decides to let Heron do the attacking with him helping if he needs to (<--doesn't like the idea of hitting anyone unless they strike first)

Watches Heron miss. Unsure if he should help her.
Sees Winona attack and decides that counts as an attack on the group so he attacks back.

((Attacks Winona; battle axe))
[dice=200+11000]
((Deep Gash on Cheek, 8.5))
Hey, it turns out Storm might not like the look of blood after all?

[rand=0105209107585855224659791549013189835579126063192250253551367104]