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HER EYES SCANNED THE DESOLATE ZOO, ONE TARGET IN MIND. After the bombing, Hestia had been thrown right back in the monkey cage, the mentors taken to an actual hospital. Those tributes with more serious injuries were examined by a veterinarian; no doubt the mentors were seen to by an actual doctor.
A handful of the Capitol students had come and gone, checking in with their respective tributes, even providing updates. Festus Creed was not among them. With every figure that approached, Hestia sat up straighter, eyes hoping to lay on a head of curls and an arrogant smirk. She was let down every time, her mentor no where in sight.
The tributes were down to nineteen, four dead and one unaccounted for; yet they didn't stop one of the deceased's mentors from stopping my to try and poach tributes. Hestia considered taking up the offer, if only to prove a point to Festus—though she doubted the blonde mentor would feed her as often.
She had given in, approaching Mizzen's mentor just before she left, inquiring after the boy. "Is Festus alright?"
She received a nod, the blond nudging her bag higher up on her shoulder, "Scratch on his face, nothing too bad."
Hestia's lips formed a tight line, "Right." Good to know he's just avoiding me.
"Well," The girl gave an awkward smile, nodding to Mizzen, "It's getting dark, I should go. I'm glad you're okay...both of you."
Once she left, Hestia flopped to the ground. She had held on to some hope that he hadn't come because he couldn't, not because he didn't want to. The knowledge that he was fine, a cut on his cheek, and still didn't come, it hurt her. She couldn't place why, though. Hadn't she told him to go away a dozen times?
But there was what he had said in the arena. He cared about getting her out— in some capacity, her cared about her.
She tossed his coat to the side for the night, the fabric a cruel mockery of his absence.
"I'm sure there's a reason." She resisted groaning at the familiar voice of Tanner. Was he really going to pull her into another long winded conversation? Before his mentor had come along he had swapped stories with Mizzen about District Ten's holidays. While she had found some interest in the conversation, the silence awarded by his mentor's arrival was pleasing.
She sat with her back against the faux rock wall, head resting against the bars. Her eyes rolled so him dramatically, though he was unbothered by her coldness. "What?"
The cowboy gave a simple shrug, "Fetus, or whatever? He's come to see you more than anyone else's mentor, I'm sure he cares."
While the words of an outsider provided some reassurance to the siren, she merely waved him off, a short scoff falling from her mouth. "I don't care if he likes me or not," she proclaimed, running a hand over her necklace. Her thumb and pointer finger rested on the one in the very middle, the one Festus had run his fingertips over before. "I'm just looking to get some food."
