A/N- This was written for the Starvation forum New Year's party drabble challenge. It's really more of a short oneshot, but we're not so picky at midnight o' thirty in the morning. ;D
This story is officially disclaimed. Thanks to my dear ones over on Starvation for checking for typos!
Rue flies.
Her heart pounds. The air around her is heavy with death. This is no place for someone like her. Small. Fragile. A delicate bird. The ground disappears beneath her feet, numbing her mind with the familiar sensation of speed. She runs toward a tree, barely pausing to gain her footing on the first branch, pausing even less to launch herself up onto the second. The trees are her world. She knows them.
Glimmer sprints.
She knows what they say about her. She's stupid. She's worthless. She's spoiled. But she isn't- she isn't! Maybe she gets bad grades. Maybe she can't target the trajectory of a spear given its velocity and angle or whatever it is, but she knows what matters. It's as simple as this: In the Hunger Games, you live or you die. And Glimmer is going to live, damn it. No matter what she needs to take. No matter who she needs to take it from. She will take it. And she will take it at the tip of a sword.
Foxface steals away.
It's a good word, steal. Steel's not so bad, either. Stealing is, of course, near and dear to any pickpocket's heart. It may sound slimy. Lowdown. Dirty. She likes it. Stealing is more honest than anyone thinks. It's you, the person you rob, and a healthy dose of chance. None of the scraping and deception that everyone seems to think is "respectable". And steel... steel is strong. Dependable. It won't burn like wood. She saw steel in the Capitol. She liked it. But it's not her. It's clean and shiny and expensive. Yes, steel may be nice, but stealing is who she is.
Flying. Sprinting. Stealing. It's all the same. No matter how you choose to walk it, the path ends in death.