out in the woods

[treadswater]

WHO: Annie Cresta
WHERE: The Forest
WHEN: 14th-25th September
OPEN TO: Everyone!
WARNINGS: General warning for anxious tendencies and homicidal thoughts
STATUS: Open

NOTES: Feel free to catch Annie anywhere mentioned! Or feel free to have your character caught in a snare. If nothing strikes your fancy, just drop me a comment and I'll come up with something.

---

They'd had to move, after the earthquake. Branches had damaged their camp, and the only fresh water easily found was that spring, down in the south-west. So Finnick and Annie had moved, north to south, setting up another camp closer to the water. But not too close and not in direct line of the village - they aren't, after all, stupid. Setting up camp between water sources and the main camp of others is an excellent way to get killed. Neither of them intend to die. Even if there's been no deaths announced. Even if the strangeness is adding up and up to something not even Annie can puzzle out. They aren't dying.

But even with her paranoia whispering and sometimes shrieking, even with fear making her jump and startle and giggle, Annie is settling into a pattern.

She and Finnick take watches during the night, judging time by the moon and stars (and, by now, the howling of the wolves). Before dawn is when they gather water, using stolen water jars and the baskets they've woven tightly from grasses. Before dawn, which means before the others (the other tributes?) come down with their buckets. Food is more haphazard, and only cooked when it could conceivably be safe.

Safer. Not safe.

Nothing here is safe.

Annie fills her day with gathering food, which includes checking the various snares they've placed around. It's a jumpy time for her, because the snares aren't just for game. They are also protection. The area around their camp is booby-trapped, which is the only way she can stand for her and Finnick to be separated. If she stays in the camp, repairing their shelter and containers or just unable to move from her mind's self-sabotage, she's safer with the snares. With the traps.

But she does get out. She goes for scouting trips, the same as Finnick. Exploring the terrain. Trying to find traps, mutts. Trying to find some more water, preferably a stream with fish. The fish in the now polluted river have gone. Oh, there are some suspiciously floating the surface, all so obviously dead, but the rest are gone, gone, gone.

That nothing has resulted from this disappearance, nothing, nothing driving the tributes together, hasn't helped Annie's nerves at all.

She also spies on the water gatherers, and the village. Her uniform might have been white when she scrambled out of the fountain, but by now Annie's rolled in enough dirt and mud that she's dulled it to dirty brown-grey more than white. And she's a small woman, barely 5', who spends a lot of her time up in the trees. But she's got that vibrant red hair and it's not yet autumn, so she's achingly aware of how visible she can if anyone looks up.

Comments

[thekittenqueen]

Margaery watches Annie with a level of admiration and wonder evident on her face. She had seen others climb trees, but never move about with such ease, as though she were floating through the air. Her movements resembled a bird's, matching all too well her shy and startled manner.

"Of course," she held out the bag for Annie, allowing her to inspect it from her position in the tree, if she preferred.

"Perhaps some time you could teach me how to make snares like that?" It seemed an even exchange and would allow Margaery to catch more than fruits and mushrooms.

[treadswater]

She tries not to snatch the bag. Tries not to be rude, or act too much like a terrified, wild thing. Which she's perilously close to behaving like, she knows. Any audience can see the analysis in her thoughts, only the fear in her body.

But she's still wary of this woman grabbing her, using her weight to pull her from the tree. So she's careful when she takes the bag, even as she gives a nod of thanks. She won't take all, but she will inspect and take some, both as a token of appreciation of the offer and because she and Finnick are hungry.

The river was a blow.

"Your, um, allies haven't taught you?" she asks then, not quite thinking until the words are out of her mouth. It's a quiet admission of spying.

[thekittenqueen]

She noted the enthusiasm in the woman's face, as well as her weight. Her skin was reddened by the sun, more than the others that she had seen in the village. She was a bit unkempt, indicating how hard her situation was out in the woods. There was little in the way of food or shelter, yet she seemed to determine to remain in the wilderness.

It was all very strange.

"You don't have to live out here in the woods. It's rather dangerous, I imagine. There are a number of bears and wolves. You might be more comfortable at the inn or in one of the available houses."

She couldn't imagine what could compel this woman to remain in the wild. "My allies? No, no one from the village taught me. I should like it if you instructed me instead. Yours are very well made."

[treadswater]

As the woman studies her, Annie studies the woman in return. She seems so... So honestly baffled. As if running into the arena was a confusing choice instead of a valid strategy. And she simply doesn't seem frightened.

"Thank you," Annie says, softly, confused all the way back at her because she just doesn't understand.

"The houses are safe? No, um. Traps? Tricks?"

It could be a lure. See if they come in, thinking it was safe, just to be killed.

[thekittenqueen]

The question wasn't very odd, as most of them had wondered about the reliability and trustworthiness of many things in the village. It at least showed that the woman was astute enough to understand that there was something strange about this place.

"So far nothing that we have seen." Margaery offered. "I stay in one of them by myself and there has been no trouble." The night was frightening, but each morning when the sun rose, it was another day that she had survived and nothing had happened.

[treadswater]

It's times like these where Annie can use her oddness to her advantage: everyone knows she is crazy, so she can mull things over and ignore the socially accepted answering time. On the downside, it can make her feel more socially anxious than normal.

However, she needs to use it now. Give herself time to think, to think up something else to ask.

"What's the community like?" she asks then. "Who's in charge?"

[thekittenqueen]

"It is very friendly and warm." She replied, glancing off thoughtfully towards the village, her mind on her friends and those she had met. "No one is in charge, we work together. Everyone contributes to our survival and plays a part in managing the village. I tend some of the livestock. One of the women, Kate, she oversees the lunches. Some of the men do the hunting, others do repairs."

They worked together to survive.

[treadswater]

She frowns at that, turning the words and the woman's sincerity over and over in her mind. It's not an impossible reaction to an arena, although normally it's not allowed to last very long at all. Cooperation promotes boredom, apparently. Or guilty consciences.

"And, are you... Attacked by anything? Like, mutts? Or, monsters?"

That's what would normally happen. Attacks to drive the alliance apart. Or the arena itself turns against them.

[thekittenqueen]

"Mutts?" She assumed that Annie meant dogs. "No, nothing has attacked me. I haven't seen any monsters or 'mutts.'" It was a strange question, but perhaps it was better that she was suspicious rather than rushing into the village in the same way that Margaery had.

"Save for the storms, it's been very quiet."

[treadswater]

"Doesn't that worry you?"

It's a quick reply, an honest one. No pause for mulling over, and if she is still frowning - indeed, frowning more - it's not over any ploy or game she's trying to work out.

No, Annie is obviously just confused.

[thekittenqueen]

She shook her head. "I think it would worry me if there were attacks or monsters. Shouldn't it be a comfort that there is nothing?" It was an odd comment, one that struck Margaery with a sense of confusion and concern.

Who was this girl that she almost preferred the idea of monsters and attacks to peace and quiet?

[treadswater]

Annie shakes her head, the lines already creasing her eyes from sun and sea seeming to deepen. Her wide, quirk mouth flattens for a moment.

"Peace means that somethin's being planned," she says finally. "Heightens suspense, doesn't it?"

Maybe that's too bold, too honest, but no, no it's not. The live footage in the games is always edited and of course the kids plan and ponder like this. They've grown up with the games.

[thekittenqueen]

"I don't understand? What would be planned? By who?" She said, surprised by the strange comments. It seemed as though this women were expecting things to happen. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, save for what creatures might be lurking in the woods."

She worried for the young woman. Survival in the forest was admirable, but so much could happen and the village was so far away. "Would you not consider coming to stay at the inn?"

[treadswater]

For a moment - too long a moment for the socially acceptable, really - Annie just studies the woman. And her expression is faintly disbelieving. By who?

"By the folks who brought us here," she says, simply. "Put us in tribute uniforms, set us in an arena we can't leave. It's a game."

She doesn't understand how anyone could seemingly trust this place... Oh.

Unless the woman is working for the gamemakers. She could be part of the game, to lure people in with sweetness and optimism.

[thekittenqueen]

She frowned in confusion and worry. Whatever this girl thought this place was, it was clear that she was slightly disturbed. How could any of this be a game?

"If it is a game, then this must truly be a dull competition. All we do is farm the land and work to survive." The only dangers that were to be found were wild animals or lack of food.

"What exactly are tributes?"

[treadswater]

"Yes. That's why things might happen. Liven it up." But it's quietly sad, with her eyes downcast. She'll drop that thread. The woman knows, or she'll learn. Or everything is wrong, but Annie doesn't think so.

"A boy and a girl from each district. Aged between twelve and eighteen, inclusive. Chosen by ballot, or they can volunteer. Usually. Quarter Quells, every twenty-five years, they have different rules."

No approval, no disapproval. This is the way of the world, and she'd better say so or else she gets into serious trouble.