Augustus could barely feel his hands, so cold they were from an impromptu bath in the freezing river. With the speed that he was moving, the wind felt like blades of ice cutting into each finger, but there was no time to stop and put on his gloves. Under the dim lighting of the partially set sun and the snowfall that had begun to fall anew, the tracks that Claude had left when he ran off would be covered soon.
The crown prince felt as if his mind had been split in two. On one side, a side that had become more prominent ever since he had killed Finnick, took ahold of his weary body and doggedly followed Claude's tracks like a predator. But the other side, the side the he would have otherwise considered his whole self, was taking note of the shocking atrocities he was witnessing.
The most pressing question those notes sought to answer was when this had happened and how no one seemed to know yet.
