suzanna-kollinz-acliq-oyunlari-1-hisse-eng

to get a decent hold on. But after a day in the arena sun, the
metal feels hot enough to blister my hands.
Cato lies on his side at the very top of the horn, twenty feet
above the ground, gasping to catch his breath as he gags over
the edge. Now’s my chance to finish him off. I stop midway up
the horn and load another arrow, but just as I’m about to let it
fly, I hear Peeta cry out. I twist around and see he’s just
reached the tail, and the mutts are right on his heels.
“Climb!” I yell. Peeta starts up hampered by not only the leg
but the knife in his hand. I shoot my arrow down the throat of
the first mutt that places its paws on the metal. As it dies the
creature lashes out, inadvertently opening gashes on a few of
its companions. That’s when I get a look at the claws. Four
inches and clearly razor-sharp.
Peeta reaches my feet and I grab his arm and pull him
along. Then I remember Cato waiting at the top and whip
around, but he’s doubled over with cramps and apparently
more preoccupied with the mutts than us. He coughs out
something unintelligible. The snuffling, growling sound coming
from the mutts isn’t helping.
“What?” I shout at him.
“He said, ‘Can they climb it?’” answers Peeta, drawing my
focus back to the base of the horn.
The mutts are beginning to assemble. As they join together,
they raise up again to stand easily on their back legs giving
them an eerily human quality. Each has a thick coat, some
with fur that is straight and sleek, others curly, and the colors
vary from jet black to what I can only describe as blond.
327