The blackberry bushes the little bear cubs played in had long since been picked clean. Wyatt knew that even before he slipped into the display, easing around the hulking mother, her dark round eyes staring into nothing - but he checked again anyway. If only for something to do. Something to occupy his hands, his mind, as the arena stretched on.

It was a maddening stretch, this. Things were so quiet, too quiet, the lists at night so short.... It couldn't last. Wyatt could feel the hammer, poised above them. Either the Capitol was going to break, and do something to stir the hornet's nest, or the tributes were.

He crouched beside the tumbling cubs, frozen forever mid-wrestle, and brushed through the leaves, checking the branches, his mouth twisted in a thoughtful frown. He should have been grateful, he supposed, for every extra day, and he was - partly.

But it also made it harder. Made him want - made him wish....

With a sigh, he turned away from the empty bushes and stared out into the dark hallway beyond. He glanced toward either end of the hall, checking the surroundings, then reached back for his bag.

Pulling out the thick square of paper and unfolding it has he many times before. Giving himself a moment to pretend there in the silence.

To hope, that it wouldn't all end there.