Her breath warmed her hands for only an instant before the biting cold reclaimed its grip on them. Twill had long since lost feeling in her toes and fingers, and the numbness slowly spread up her arms and legs. Her torso burned with every breath. But she would rather think about the cold than how she had ended up here. A part of her wished she could die just so that she wouldn't have to face the fact that she'd never see her husband again. Or her children. Or her students. Or Bonnie.

Her stomach roiled at the thought of the infection that had spread from what at first seemed like a normal scrape, nothing to worry about. But that was before Bonnie's leg had swelled to almost twice its original diameter, before yellow puss marked a trail of their travels in the snow, before Bonnie's pale face turned ashen and the girl went horribly still. Twill hadn't buried her, for the ground was frozen solid. Instead, she'd left her in the shade of a tree, her black hair the perfect contrast to the white snow around her. A few violet winter blossoms completed the makeshift grave.

Though it was slowly killing her, Twill could not help but be amazed by the environment she occupied. She'd never seen a world with more color. Though its weavers created textiles in every imaginable hue, Eight itself was gray. The buildings, the clothing, the sky – everything. Even the snow was so poisoned with pollution that it seemed as though a thick layer of dust fell over the district every winter. Here was different. Pure, white snow weighed down the limbs of the still-green trees that tower far above her head. The birds that watched her from the treetops came in all colors – jet-black mockingjays, scarlet robins, sapphire bluebirds. Once, she tried to count the colors she'd seen since leaving Eight. She lasted less than ten minutes before admitting defeat. There were simply too many; it would take at least the rest of her life to even come close. Not that the rest of her life was a very high threshold. She guessed that she had a few days, maybe a week left in her. In truth, she was surprised she'd lasted this long.

According to the calculations she completed back in Eight, it took around twenty days to walk to Thirteen. Factoring in their slower pace due to Bonnie's injured leg, around thirty days was reasonable. If she'd counted right, it had been forty-three. She'd almost certainly gotten off course and missed it. There was little hope of ever reaching District Thirteen now.

Twill wondered if perhaps she had wandered outside of Panem's borders. Her mind almost rejected the thought outright. It seemed impossible that there existed a land untainted by Panem's cruelty. Would Snow have allowed anyone to remain outside his power? And even if there was something beyond Panem, would she want to know them, understanding that they had done nothing to stop the districts' suffering?

She stuffed her hands back into her pockets and trod further into the forest. As she went, Twill grew convinced that someone – no, something – was watching her. She looked over her shoulder again and again, hoping to glimpse the creature that stalked her, but she saw nothing. Still, the feeling continued to grow. There was something out there. Terrified, she ran, stumbling through the snow, but always pushing herself up again in her desperate attempt to escape her pursuer.

All she gained were aching limbs and a scattering of bruises. The beast never showed itself. She had lost any sense of where it could be, and Twill now felt as if it was all around her, hidden behind every tree. The forest itself was dark now, foreboding. Though still midday, the thick canopy created the illusion of dusk. Low-hanging branches scratched at her helmet, but Twill fought through, determined to reach a clearing before nightfall.

The forest had other plans for her. Trees moved together, creating an impenetrable wall that shifted with her attempts to escape. Desperate, she clawed at the bark, but though she could see flakes falling from the trunks, her fingers left no marks on the trees. She was left with raw hands and sticky fingers, but no escape. Twill retreated, panting, collapsing to the ground. The trees seemed to loom in on her, ready to pounce. She closed her eyes and exhaled, waiting for her attacker. Death had found her at last, and Twill was ready to greet it as an old friend.

She did not know how long she waited before she felt something brush her leg. Twill's eyes snapped open, and she sat up to see a root, moving of its own accord, slithering like a snake up her leg. She watched, fascinated, as it wrapped around her thigh, its end sharpening into a point. Only then did she try to yank her leg away, but the root's hold was too tight. It drove the end into her thigh, and her scream scared the birds away from their treetop nests, the mockingjays echoing the pitch of her cries.

Then, the grip on her leg loosened, the root sliding away to sit on the ground again. The forest lightened, and when she looked up again, the trees had parted. In the distance, Twill could make out a clearing with a few dozen thatch-roofed houses. The untouched, pristine snow on the roofs glimmered like crystal, and smoke curled from the chimneys.

Twill limped, then, when her leg gave out, crawled towards it, her blood staining the snow. She managed to reach the door of the first home and knock on the door before passing out.

When she awoke, it was in a warm bed next to a crackling fire. "Oh, good, you're up," said an older woman with a twisted arm. "We were worried about you for a while there."

"I found it. District Thirteen." Even though her words were garbled, Twill could hear the excitement in her voice.

But the other woman looked at her, confused. "Love, I think you'd best go back to sleep. You'll feel better when you wake up."

Twill had returned to her dreams before her caretaker finished speaking.

When she was strong enough to venture outside the infirmary, the woman brought her to a young man with blue eyes. "Welcome," he said. "I'm glad you have joined us."

"Thank you for your hospitality," she replied. "I am grateful for your peoples' kindness."

He nodded. "We are more than happy to extend the mercy that has been shown to us towards others. We only ask that someday you do the same."

"If I meet anyone in need on my way, I will be sure to help."

"Your travels? I'm sorry, but you cannot leave. The forest will not allow it. Now, please, come with me. I have something to show you."

It would be rude to argue with her host, so Twill followed him out the building and through the streets. As they walked, he explained to her the rules and the history of The Village that she was to make her home. She was the first one, he said, that had come from Panem, but everyone was an outsider here. Twill would learn to be happy, he hoped.

The man led her to a museum much like the display cases the factories and warehouses in Eight used to display their products. There, she saw her gleaming white Peacekeeper's uniform next to a humble red sleigh.

.oOo.

A/N: Written for the Beyond Panem challenge on Caesar's Palace using the prompt rainbow.