Honor sets down her backpack, soda, and the rest of her supplies onto the sandy ground. She surveys the hole she's come across. It appears to be large enough for her to hide in for the night... but what could have made such a large hole?
She begins to investigate the opening in the desert ground, but recoils as she hears a HISSSSS escape from the hole.
Snake! she thinks in shock. She catches a glimpse of a something large and scaly inside the hole - much larger than any old garden snake... Make that a muttated snake, she amends.
Remembering her training from the Capitol, she desperately tries to pull together a snake snare using her coil of wire. After fifteen minutes of frustrating metal-bending, she finally makes an acceptable trap for the serpent. She carefully sets it in front of the hole and, ever so quietly, she backs away.
She whistles, and sits back, holding her breath with apprehension.
Sure enough, the snake muttation hisses again and begins to slither out of the hole. It's huge, but Honor doesn't move, hoping that it has bad eyesight and won't see her hiding in plain sight.
Please, Mrs. DeCarlo, she prays, squeezing her eyes shut, help me!
The snake investigates the flimsy-looking snare, and then snaps it in two with a slice from its razor-sharp fangs. Honor loses all hope right then - but suddenly, there's a cheesy-sounding roll of thunder and a convenient bolt of lightning flies out of the cloudless sky and fries the snake.
"Thank you, Mrs. DeCarlo!" Honor shouts up into the sky, and begins carefully cutting apart the snake for her dinner.
The merciful Head Gamemaker Mrs. DeCarlo smiles from her office. "That was easy."
"Ma'am, Staples is going to sue you for using that phrase," says an assistant.
"Call up my lawyer and sue them for suing me."
"Yes, ma'am."
She begins to investigate the opening in the desert ground, but recoils as she hears a HISSSSS escape from the hole.
Snake! she thinks in shock. She catches a glimpse of a something large and scaly inside the hole - much larger than any old garden snake... Make that a muttated snake, she amends.
Remembering her training from the Capitol, she desperately tries to pull together a snake snare using her coil of wire. After fifteen minutes of frustrating metal-bending, she finally makes an acceptable trap for the serpent. She carefully sets it in front of the hole and, ever so quietly, she backs away.
She whistles, and sits back, holding her breath with apprehension.
Sure enough, the snake muttation hisses again and begins to slither out of the hole. It's huge, but Honor doesn't move, hoping that it has bad eyesight and won't see her hiding in plain sight.
Please, Mrs. DeCarlo, she prays, squeezing her eyes shut, help me!
The snake investigates the flimsy-looking snare, and then snaps it in two with a slice from its razor-sharp fangs. Honor loses all hope right then - but suddenly, there's a cheesy-sounding roll of thunder and a convenient bolt of lightning flies out of the cloudless sky and fries the snake.
"Thank you, Mrs. DeCarlo!" Honor shouts up into the sky, and begins carefully cutting apart the snake for her dinner.
***
"Ma'am, Staples is going to sue you for using that phrase," says an assistant.
"Call up my lawyer and sue them for suing me."
"Yes, ma'am."
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