The fresh wounds were still trickling some blood, but the gloves were a smart move. They kept her from leaving bloody handprints everywhere she touched. When the arena shook, she found herself clinging to a streetlamp that threatened to topple over. She was still a little dazed from the after effects of the casino water, and growing thirstier by the second. She had some bandages now, too, tucked into her fanny pack. All around her were shards of glass and pieces of the tacky building exteriors that had fallen free. The bright lights helped her to navigate, and she spotted a thin little river of water starting to creep around a corner. She’d seen the fountains in the distance before, but didn’t know if she should approach. She imagined they were meant to draw tributes in, like a watering hole. Expose them.
But maybe now was the best time to approach. She followed the stream, looking closely. She had an empty canteen she could refill, and it would be useful to wet one of the bandages to wipe down the fresher wounds before she used the remaining two sparingly. She’d yet to take the painkiller pill still tucked in the very corner of her pant pocket. She was waiting for something worse to happen. Maybe once the damage from Rio really settled into her bones, or if another cut got infected. Or if she got into another fight. She hoped she didn’t. She wasn’t feeling strong enough for it, or sharp enough.
When Poppy got to the fountains, she found each had a split through the side that was causing the water to run free. Not enough to empty it, but enough so that Poppy noticed something else - the way the water seared through the glass and ground it ran over. She slowly sat down, peering down at the lowered water levels. It seemed normal enough. She pulled off one of her gloves and dipped a single cloth fingertip in. She watched as the threads began to come loose, and the fabric seemed to melt. Quickly, she pulled the glove back and slapped it against the side of the fountain. She returned it to her hand, and untied the canteen from her hip as she stood. She walked among the fountains, trying to find a crack that would work best without harming her. She crouched down next to a thin split near the top of a fountain’s edge, and held the open mouth of her canteen against it. The plastic started to twist and melt a little, but she didn’t need much.
As she stood back up, she spotted a familiar figure approaching. Maize. She’d forgotten for some time that the other girl was still in the arena. Perhaps the drugged water had served some useful purpose on her psyche. Sober, stone-faced, she only greeted Maize at first with a slight nod. “I got bandages.” There were only three, and it wasn’t really an offer to share. Just a statement, an update, that didn’t cover nearly all the bases of what had transpired since they last spoke.
@maizehammond