Quinn had seated herself in the sand, trying not to move as much as possible. Every time she moved, her ribs throbbed, and the pain radiated through her whole chest cavity. Then on top of that, her throat burned because of the salt water. But she sat there, next to Agathias and Peeta-- eating fish that they had caught. Quinn wasn't a fan of it, but it was more than she'd probably have for awhile. Quinn avoided talking, and in a way, she was pretty sure that Finnick was thankful for that. Because Quinn didn't bother to ask what happened to Mags.

Why did it matter anyway? All that really mattered was the fact that she was gone, and other tributes were gone simply because Snow wanted to prove a point. Quinn honestly didn't care to know all the gruesome details about what happened to Mags. She didn't want to think about how awful it must have been.

"How are you really?"

Quinn looked up from the fish she was picking at towards Peeta. She didn't say anything at first. His simple question-- referring to how banged up she had gotten in the wave, it made her mind fall over it self.

How was she really? She was awful. She had been awful ever since she was reaped for the seventy-third games. The only thing that could make up for it-- was the end of the Hunger Games. Because each year, as more kids went in-- twenty-three of them were already replaced as soon as they died. And this year, twenty-five people would be replaced. Twenty-four Victor's would be replaced over the next twenty-four years. The thought of the games never ending, more and more death-- none of it had to happen. None of this had to happen. She couldn't help but think if she had just played the games by Snow's rules from the very beginning, none of this would have been a problem. But she had just been so stubborn, she refused to just be replaced the next year-- but now...now she wished she had just been another tribute to die, or another Victor who just went along with things instead of this Victor that Rebels wanted on their side. She understood why she was important to them, she had come to terms with it-- but it wasn't something she liked. At least not at that moment.

"I'm just sore..." she shrugged, "Really." she added looking at Peeta.

He looked at her for a moment and didn't seem all that convinced.

"Honestly, I'm fine." she assured him.

The group of them didn't talk much. There wasn't much to talk about. Not all of them were going to live, there was no point getting exceptionally close to any one. They all-- well at least Finnick and Quinn, were aware that if anyone was going to survive this year, it had to be Katniss. Nobody else. Peeta would be have been a close second, but Katniss was the rebels priority. Ciruss had made it sound like they wanted her too, but there was nothing left she could do-- they needed Katniss.

That was what Quinn had to keep telling herself. Whenever she would start to wonder what things were like back in Four, how she wanted to just be back there-- she had to tell herself that she just had to help Katniss win.

Not much time had passed before there was a whistle that echoed above them. Quinn looked up, scanning the air. She didn't see it at first, but soon the hot sun reflected off if a silver parachute. It floated down to the ground, landing at the edge of the water. Before Quinn could even jump up to get it, Katniss was already on her feet-- eager to see what had been delivered and for who. She picked it up, and look at the number on the parachute.

"It's for you," she said looking down at Quinn. She showed them all the parachute, it had a bold C on it. She handed it down to Quinn.

Everyone averted their eyes, as if they weren't curious. Or even jealous, in this arena-- anything would be helpful. But Quinn did her best to ignore the bit of tension as she opened it-- picking up a note from Ciruss in one hand, then a small bottle that rattled with pills.

You're a terrible liar. Rest. -C

Quinn sighed, rereading the note. She had known she had been a terrible liar-- she always had been. But she had thought that she had been pretty convincing about how much pain she was in.

"So," Peeta sighed, "How are you, really?" he asked again. This time his voice was ringing with a bit of amusement.

Quinn turned the bottle around and read the label, Relief Chewable Tablets. She sighed heavily and looked up at Peeta as if it was obvious.

"Do any of you need any?" Quinn asked, looking towards the others. "There's plenty here." she said as she gave the bottle a shake, and pushed the parachute and container way from her.

"You need it," Katniss replied. "You did get slammed into an island not long ago."

"We can hold onto them though," Finnick stated. "Couldn't hurt." he said, a small smile spreading across his face.

Quinn looked at each of them, then her eyes stayed on Agathias for a moment. He had barely taken a bite of his fish, he had been stuck under water longer than she had been. And he looked like he was hurting more than he let on.

Agathias shook his head, "Tonight if I need it." he assured her.

She didn't push the subject any more before twisting off the lid. She quickly read the instructions and say that she could take two depending on how bad it was. She took two with no hesitation, and popped them in her mouth. They had a chalky taste as she chewed them up, and they left her mouth dry for a moment. The taste faded quickly though, and after a moment she felt it begin to take effect.

The sounds around her began to fade like the pain that had paralysed her. And soon she found herself lowering herself down onto her back in the sand. The tablets gave her no choice but to rest, just like Ciruss had told her.