Hunting [Danny]

[Riro]

The Hunter. That’s who she was, how she was known as. The Fierce. The Brave. The Mighty. All these words could describe this girl, in her own sick and twisted head. She had light brown colored hair, always tumbled loose around her shoulders, flowing free behind her back as she ran. That was how she liked to be seen. A dagger strapped to her side, running without a care in the world. You see, this girl could really hunt. She possessed excellent skills with a dagger and knife, and was amazing at tracking animals. She would follow some large game for days if she had to.

Brown eyebrows arched up in a tight know in concentration, her dark red lips sealed tightly in a thin line, and her eyelids were fluttered ever so slightly shut. Behind the fleshy skin were electric blue eyes, but cold and dark, showing her inner feelings. This girl was Mara. She was not nice. She was not generous. She was not even jealous of others. She simply existed, angrily.

The scenery behind was a simple forest, the only one that the residents of District Nine in Panem were allowed to hunt in. Trees grew everywhere and the sound of a running river could be heard not far off. There were no paths to speak of, however. Enter the girl Mara. She was scowling with her knife clenched in her stiff hand, as always, ready to strike. A small squirrel flicked across her path, but she didn’t even look up from her trail, as always. She never bothered with the smaller animals, they were so much work for so little meat. It was the bigger things she was after, foxes and deer, that she would sometimes track for days, because they brought so much meat.

Mara loved winter, for a very different reason then most other people. The snow left clear footprints that were so easy to follow. She would never have to bend down and examine every bit of evidence in the forest of a passing by animal. She ran at high speed, knowing she would catch it, this time it looked like a wounded doe by the hoof prints in the snow, and she thought of stabbing the poor thing. She thought of Blood. Of Murder. And she threw back her head and laughed, an evil, cunning laugh, not caring if other living creatures saw her.

She ran more until she was tired and bent over to clutch her side. Her breathing was ragged, but she was smiling. And then she saw it. Up ahead, about thirty yards away. The deer. Victory was hers. She crept closer, quite this time, and fingered the knife by her side. She smiled again.

[dannynugent]

Clyde strutted out of his house and into into the woods. Walking through the woods he heard his big feet make noises, probably scaring off all the game he could catch. Why would he care? He really doesn't. It's not like Clyde, or any other District 9 citizens, get to really eat it, unless they sneak it home. Which was a really stupid thing to do, since you'd either die on the spot or get whipped several times. So Clyde decided on his daily schedule a long time ago; Wake up, Brush my teeth, occasionally bathe myself, eat an apple or something, get his bow and arrows from his room, walk outside in the woods, try to get a few kills, give the animals to the place where they collect them, walk home, eat a small dinner, repeat. It was a pretty basic schedule, and it wasn't very hard to forget.

Clyde was just about to rest when he saw a chipmunk, he shot it quickly, and hit it. Clyde silently cheered to himself, he didn't want any of the other people out here think he was crazy. After walking roughly ten feet forward he heard the faint sound of a river. Clyde followed the sound, and it appeared. Clyde dipped his shoe in it, the water penetrated through and Clyde's huge feet felt bitter cold now. That was his fault. But he did catch something already, so he was fine. After walking down the river for an hour, the only other things he saw were some water guppies. Clyde didn't bother shooting them with his metal bow, that was sort of District 4's job.

Clyde faded away from the river path and found a tree to use as a backrest when he sat down. He sighed. Scratched his nose, bit his lip, and pulled his hair over his eyes. Clyde was restless. But he was still his shy self. So he got up, tripped, and his head slowly hit the ground. From this angle, he could see a birds nest. Clyde might as well shoot it down, and hopefully, if there are any eggs, they won't crack, since the grass over here is soft, and the snow helps.

Clyde pulls out a leather arrow, one he got for his birthday, and shot the nest. He heard birds squawking, and finally he saw an egg. He examined this. And instantly felt sad for ruining someone's habitat. He wouldn't like it if some else did that to his house. So he grabbed the eggs and the nest, climbed up the tree, good thing there was a lot of branches. He left his game on the ground. When he got to where the nest was, he poorly imitated what the other birds said, but he did it well enough, he could see the same red birds he saw before.

After placing the nest back with the eggs, he felt happy. He saved a animal's life. One he hopped into the snow, he was cushioned. His game was beside him, he grabbed it and kept on walking. Breathing, and walking, and breathing, until he got tired. He saw the river and revived some water. After drinking the fresh spring water for some time, he filled up his jug one last time and kept going on. Then, his mind filtered with interesting news that was happening in District 9.

That weird disease was going around, he didn't have it, luckily. And so he didn't care too much. Clyde was bored out of his teenage shy, single, curious mind. And it kind of sucked.

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