Survive || Finnick Aug 2, 2018 12:35:55 GMT -7
Post by Pyra Elswood on Aug 2, 2018 12:35:55 GMT -7
The ride on the boat was one of uncertainty. In theory, she was going home. She was going back to the place where she was born and raised. She was going back to the place where all of her things were and where she was titled victor. But she didn't know if she would call it home anymore. There was nobody to see, nobody to go back to. Her things were probably thrown out or taken by the Capitol when she was put in the prison. So to her, it wasn't really home. She sat close to Finnick, and if she had to label anything home, it would be him. Two f*cked up victors in a place that they both called home at one point. She stayed silent the whole way back, thinking of how things were going to change. She didn't know what happened to the Capitol, or with the rebels, or who even won. Maybe, when they got back, she would be executed by the Peacekeepers. Nothing was certain.
The hour back felt like minutes. She was lost in her thoughts, and before she realized it, Pyra saw the fishermen moving to get he anchor down and tie the boat. "Lou, go get the mayor as soon as we're close to dock. We need to find these two a place, a doctor, and an escort team if possible." Pyra didn't move from her spot. She was cozy in the blanket, not wanting to move from her spot. The blonde looked around, seeing bodies move on the horizon and varying factories she recognized. But she felt nothing towards them. She barely looked around enough. She just didn't care.
The man hoped off the boat as the boat rocked more from the waves under them. She gripped onto the blanket, not being used to the rocky boat in a long time. It made her a little motion sick, but she took a couple of deep breaths. The rain had stopped, but the overcast still looked like it was going to rain. They were docking, and she was glad that the ship was high enough that people probably couldn't see their faces. For all they knew, they were the last victors.
Pyra looked at Finnick. She saw how dirty he was, and she probably wasn't any better. She was probably worse since she didn't wash off in the water like he did. She felt like she had ten layers of grime on her, but she had more things to worry about than dirt. "What are you thinking about?" She asked Finnick, knowing he probably had just as many things going on in his head as she did.
WORD COUNT: 451
TAG: Finnick Odair
NOTES: Slow start, sorry!!