Hey everyone! I hope you had a good week! Special thanks to MaxMan667 for betaing this chapter.

Caillou Wight (17)- D3F

I spent last night huddled on a tree limb with my new supplies clutched tightly to my chest. After hearing the three cannon shots go off last night, I feared something had been let loose in the arena. But despite my attempts to stay awake, I eventually drifted off, my dreams full of whispering voices floating through the forest, a faceless monster chasing after my scent, interspersed with flashes of Dylan's smiling face. I jolt awake the next morning to the sweet sound of birdsong, and I take a deep breath to steel myself.

The thoughts of Dylan are unexpected and nerve wracking. I've been trying to push his memory out of my mind ever since he died in the bloodbath. The images of his smile leaves me feeling uneasy. I pack up my things quickly and start my journey anew.

I've decided to head south, away from the Cornucopia. Since I keep running into people in the northern part of the woods, hopefully I'll have better luck in the opposite direction. I keep a careful eye on the trees around me, still on edge after last night. I can't believe I got so close to the Careers, even speaking to one, without running into any harm. I can't set aside the fear that they're still watching me, following me through the trees, waiting to strike.

I hold off from eating for as long as I can, but eventually my stomach is rumbling enough that someone could hear it, and I'm starting to feel a little faint. I find a sturdy log to sit on and take out my berries for a quick breakfast. I ignore my new canteen of water, no matter how thirsty I feel. The berries will be enough hydration until they run out. I chow down on a few berries until my fingers are stained anew with fresh juice. The juice I painted on myself yesterday is still staining my skin, slowly fading away.

I shuffle through my new supplies once more, still trying to convince myself that they're real. I nibble on a few crackers for some carbs, then carefully place each of my items in the pack and swing it over my shoulder. I continue through the forest, keeping a sharp eye out for any tributes or beasts. I hear the birds singing above me and listen to their calming song, trying to stay grounded. Despite how helpful these new supplies are, I can't help but wish that a weapon had been in the pack. Maybe a small knife or hatchet. Of course, my best option for a weapon would be a crossbow so I could keep my distance from my enemies, but I doubt I'll ever get my hands on one of those in the arena.

There's eleven of us left. I've seen Games where there were eleven tributes alive after the first day, and this is the seventh day. I imagine these Games will be long. The thought makes my hair stand up and my throat dry, dread settling in the pit of my stomach. The Games could just be beginning.

I accidentally step on a pile of crunchy leaves, and the sounds echoes off the trees. I take a deep breath, glancing around in anticipation, but it seems nothing heard me except for the birds. I tremble slightly as I start walking again. I'm not sure why I'm shaking. Maybe it's the knowledge that without a weapon, I won't be able to win the Games no matter how many other supplies I have. Or the realization that my time in the arena isn't coming to a close any time soon unless I die. Do I even really want to win, if it means having to live through days or weeks more of this hell?

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, leaning up to feel the sun on my eyelids. I can't give up. I have to keep going for my mother, for Sedrick, for my grandfather's memory. For District Three, who hasn't had a victor in nearly two decades.

Thimble Brier (16)- D8M

"Raven?" I ask. I haven't heard him cough in a few minutes, and I'm worried he may have passed out. There's something ironic about the two of us being left to take care of each other, the boys who are barely able to walk or stay conscious. I don't even know if my voice is strong enough for him to hear.

"Raven?" I ask again, my throat aching.

"Yeah?" Suddenly Raven's voice echoes off of the rocks as he calls down to me.

"Where were you?" I ask weakly.

"Just getting some food," he says. He sounds less miserable than I would expect for two people in our situation. I told me he got a message from his mentor Johanna last night, which apparently has renewed his hope. I don't tell him that hope is pointless. All we can do is sit around and wait to die.

My chosen position for sitting and waiting to die is against the cliff face with rocks digging into my back, looking out over the sea as it sprays seawater and mist up at me. The distant water is serene, cool, calm. I hope that if Flux doesn't make it to the island, at least she'll find some peace out there, away from the death and destruction of the land. And if one of those cannon shots last night were her drowning, then she died peacefully. Not in a bloody massacre or slowly from dehydration, like me.

Not for the first time, I wonder if I should just jump into the violent whirlpool below me. It will surely either suck me deep underneath where I'll drown or bash me against the rocks until I die, but at least it will be over. I can't be sure, but I think I can feel my organs slowly and painfully shutting down inside me. I cough once, and it feels like my head will split apart.

"Are you alright down there?" Raven asks from above.

I nod before realizing he can't see me. "Yes," I say, then laugh at how ridiculous I sound. I'm not alright, not by a mile, but there's nothing we can do about it. The laughter causes a sharp pain in my chest, and I lean back with a gasp, trying to catch my breath.

I hear Raven chuckling above me. At least I'm with someone who doesn't turn up their nose at macabre humor. "I know, I know," he says. "But don't give up, Thimble."

What options do I have other than giving up? I sigh, watching as the distant waves pull water to and from the rocks. After some water, the thing I want most right now is a cigarette. Even just one drag. Being back at my little room waiting for another client at the Red would be better than this. I was a fool to ever wish to escape from my old life.

Marlowe Bahari (18)-D4F

The bloodlust that has been simmering under my skin has been sated, if only slightly. I remember sticking my baton through Cyprian's neck as I practice my baton skills in the clearing around the Cornucopia, recalling how easily his blood had spurted from his throat as he convulsed with pain and panic. The way he'd collapsed onto Volt's body.

The blood from our victims is still staining the grass under my feet. The scent of iron from the bloodbath has long passed, but now it's been renewed, the sweet smell reaching my nose whenever I slice through the air. The bodies were taken last night while we watched from the Cornucopia. Now there's only three of us Careers left, with eight opponents, but I'm confident in my ability to win. Last night proved that the three of us are better fighters than the other tributes. We'll defeat them without a problem, maybe losing Leto or Passion along the way. And if I end up having to kill one of my allies, I know I'll come out on top.

I twirl around as I spin my baton, imagining a tribute charging at me with a greatsword. I slash into his chest, bending down quickly to slice open his kneecaps, then up again to slit his neck, leaving him to die on the grass. I stop and rub the sweat from my eyes, and the imaginary tribute disappears. I turn to peer over at my allies, sitting at the mouth of the Cornucopia. I saunter over to them with a hand on my hip, setting my baton down on a nearby crate.

"Are we going hunting or not?" I ask, looking at my nails. The dirt that's gotten underneath them would be unacceptable by Capitol standards, but it's sort of fun to be so dirty without expectation of making myself up. I can just be as I am, and be praised for it.

"We need to decide who's staying here to guard the Cornucopia if we're going to hunt," Leto says, sounding monotone. She's been acting strange since Cyprian died. I raise an eyebrow at her, but don't say anything. So Cyprian was a cowardly traitor, a shame to his district. He's gone now, and we need to look forward.

Passion flips her black hair over her shoulder, standing with a sigh. "I'm not staying here and sitting around. Marlowe should stay."

I growl, hand reaching for my baton instinctively. "In case you forgot, I'm the one who killed the Cyprian, and I knew that he was betraying us. You only killed the little girl."

"He knocked you to the ground," Passion says without looking at me, rolling her eyes. "And I have the most kills out of anyone here, in case you forgot." Her voice is so even, arrogant, that it makes me want to punch her in her perfect nose.

Leto stands with a grunt. "One of you has to stay because you can't be trusted together," she says, but there's barely a bite in her words. "We'll flip for it."

I open my mouth to protest, but Leto is already unpinning the silver star brooch from her outfit and positioning it in her hand. "Heads or tails, Passion?" she asks tiredly.

"Heads, always," Passion says, her eyes fixed on my face with a daring look.

Leto flips the pin quickly, covering it up with her hand before revealing the result too slowly. The pin is lying faceup in her sweaty palm. I growl again, stomping my foot slightly while Passion sighs victoriously. "I guess we'll be leaving, then. Have fun guarding the oranges." She points to a bag of oranges sticking out of a crate.

I open my mouth to retort, but at a sharp glance from Leto, I bite my tongue. I cross my arms as I watch the other two girls pick out their food and supplies for the journey. We're all tired from last night, so their hunt probably won't be very long anyway. If any tributes come past the Cornucopia, I'll be the one to finish them off. I wave my baton around idly as I watch Passion decide whether to bring an axe or mace. Eventually she goes with the axe, and Leto carefully tucks her whip into her belt.

She waves goodbye to me as they set out in a direction we haven't gone before, to the southeast. After they've left, I continue practicing with my baton as the heat bears down on me. I won't let Passion's taunts get to me. In fact, I hope we'll end up as the final two. That way I'll be able to gash her throat open and watch as the light leaves her eyes.

Thorn Guerra (16)- D11M

The forest's edge is getting closer and closer as Luna and I walk along the beach. It feels like we're being welcomed home. Being out in the open on the coast for so long felt wrong, too vulnerable, too visible. The trees feel like Eleven, like the orchards that I spent so long climbing throughout my life, working and waiting and working some more.

Luna runs ahead with a gentle laugh as we reach the trees, disappearing inside. I follow her quickly, keeping my eyes fixated on her. "Don't run too far," I chide. "You don't want to fall off the cliff."

Luna giggles at me, running backward to look at me with a bright smile on her face. "Thorn Guerra worrying about me. Who knew that would ever happen?" she says lightly.

I huff and look away to hide my smile. "Don't get used to it," I say, rolling my eyes.

We continue our stroll through the forest, carefree, but I keep an eye out for any movement in the trees. We need to find a tall tree to stay in for a midday break, and then another tonight to sleep in. Moving through the trees is always the safest option in the Games when its available.

Then I hear a familiar sound."Wait a second," I say. "Do you hear that?"
I feel like I'm having deja-vu. Luna blinks at me in confusion just like she did last time; but I can clearly hear the distant female voice singing directly to me. I can't make out any individual words, but I can tell it's for me. I feel my feet start to move in the direction of the voice.

"Thorn, what are you doing?" Luna asks quizzically.

"I… I think I hear my grandmother," I say dazedly. "Stay here, Luna."

"No!" She grabs my arm and pulls me away as I begin walking toward the sound again. "Not again, Thorn. It's a trap, you know it is." her voices off into a deep buzzing noise that is overlaid with the song.

"...what?" I shake my head. It's suddenly hard to focus. I blink rapidly, trying to retrieve my consciousness.

"Let's go!" Luna says urgently, pulling on my arm. I let her lead me away, for several minutes, until the song fades enough that I can focus again. I groan, rubbing my head with both hands.

"Are you alright?" Luna asks me gently.

"Yeah… let's keep going."

We move through the forest, probably making too much noise. I stumble over branches and roots until Luna finally makes me sit on a tree trunk. She hands me some water which I wave away at first, but she insists.

"We shouldn't waste our water," I grumble.

"It's not a waste if you need it," she says firmly.

I wonder if she was wrong earlier. She's the one worrying about me. We haven't eaten yet today, so Luna takes out some of our fish and hands me a half of one. We only have a few left, so we'll need to ration them well unless we want to return to the beach. We sit and munch on some fish, and I feel my energy slowly return with every bite. I shudder when I think about the song, the shrill and haunting notes that echoed in my mind. My grandmother's rosemary earring dangling from my ear tickles my neck.

"We need to stay away from this place," Luna says, glancing around warily. "It has to be a trap."

"Why couldn't you hear it?" I blurt out. "It was so loud… I could barely think…"

"Don't think about it," she says sharply. "It's a trap, understand?"
I nod slowly, sighing. "You're right. Let's just keep moving."

Logan Wheeler (18)- D6M

The sun beats down on me relentlessly. I cough as I keep moving, too afraid to stop. I had taken a quick break as the sun rose, when I had collapsed into the grass from exhaustion, but I had forced myself to start running again after a few minutes. I can't afford to stop. I don't know how long the Careers will follow me, if at all, but I can't stop. I can't.

It's the hottest part of the day, and I don't think I've ever been so exhausted, not even after the bloodbath. I don't have it in me to run; I haven't for hours; but I keep staggering forward with pained gasps. My legs finally give out underneath me and I crumble to the ground, letting my sword drop from my fingers. I try not to cry out in despair, burying my face into the grass. The smell of dirt and grass fills my nose. I can't let the Capitol see me like this. I can't let Natalie see me break like this. Not the Warriors; not my parents. Not District Six as a whole. I have to stay strong.

But how can I when Pagani is dead? My entire alliance is gone. I wanted to create an alliance to rival the Careers, and I failed. Now I'm the only one alive to see my failure.

I slowly roll over to face the sun. It shines through my closed eyelids, illuminating each of the veins in the thin skin. What is the point of continuing? I'm all alone, with no one to watch my back, no one to fight alongside, no one to talk to. I feel a sob rising in my throat, and I choke it down with desperation. I have to stay strong.

I stand with trepidation, gazing around me to make sure no one's seen me. The hills are barren as far as I can see, except for the sleeping dragon in the distance. I might as well head that direction, even though I won't be able to get any water from its stash. Especially not without Pagani or Volt. I start walking, feeling like my feet are lead. I have to stay strong.

I rifle through my remaining pack to see what supplies I left the Cornucopia with. The heavy coat that we got from the bloodbath is still there, along with the baggie of dried jerky and a canteen of water. Everything else is gone except for my sword. I stagger past the dragon, keeping a safe distance between us, staring at the water it's guarding with misery.

I continue walking until I'm farther out than I've ever been before. Volt always wanted to stay fairly close to the Cornucopia. Now I have some idea why, though I'm still confused about what happened. My heart constricts with both anger and sorrow as I think about Volt's cocky smile. What had he been planning? He had spoken to the boy from Two like he knew him. If he had an infiltration plan, he should have told me!

Deep down, I know why he didn't tell Pagani and I. He was going to kill us later, maybe even right afterward. How could I have been so foolish to see right past my own ally's betrayal? Did I forget the name of this game? We were only allies until someone decided it was time to kill each other. He was just the one who made that call.

It's only after I walk for another hour or so that I realize how hungry I am. I let out a deep sigh as I find a spot between two small hills to sit and eat. The hills give me some cover as I take out some jerky and tear off a piece. It might as well be cardboard; I can't taste it at all. I take a few sips of water as well, then sit with my head between my knees for a while. For a moment, I consider simply staying here, just lying in the grass and waiting for something, anything to happen; for the Careers to come and kill me… but I set that thought aside. I put away my food, grab my sword, and stand with resolve. I have to stay strong. I can do this for District Six, for all the people I left there. I can't give up.

Leto Larston (18)- D2F

Passion spins her axe, the head expertly swinging under her arm and up again, the handle twirling in her fingers. She's definitely a skilled fighter and dancer. I underestimated her before the battle last night, but she impressed me. She handled two tributes at once, who had proven themselves worthy opponents before in the bloodbath. She hadn't managed to kill both of them, but the battle had been an overwhelming victory.

She notices me watching and shoots me a grin. "Jealous, Leto? Can you even use a blade? I've never seen you use anything but that dumb whip."

I feel the butt of the weapon banging against my hip with each step. "Of course I can use a sword, or an axe," I say evenly. "I like the whip because it's versatile. It's long range and short range."

"And you can trap people with it," Passion says dryly.

"That is also a bonus," I say, keeping my eyes on the horizon. The grass continues for what looks like miles, but I know the beach must sit at the edge of it. We haven't explored this direction yet, too busy chasing enemies and fighting among ourselves. Now it's time to face the tributes who are hiding out by the beach. I imagine there are lots of them, hoping for water and fish. My fingers itch for my whip just thinking about them. I imagine it wrapping around Volt's feet like it did last night, pulling him to the ground so I could beat him to a pulp.

I wish I had been the one to kill Cyprian. Killing Volt was easy, cathartic. But Cyprian was my partner, my friend. We grew up in the Academy together, trained together for years, and were chosen to volunteer alongside one another. And he had betrayed me nonetheless. I imagine his dull green eyes looking into mine, always careful, cautious, determined. How could Volt have corrupted him so totally into the whimpering, scared tribute that I saw Marlowe stick her baton through?

"Let's move faster," Passion complains. "I want to kill something."

I nod, and we pick up the pace. She finally seems more like herself than she has since the bloodbath. I wonder what she was thinking when she stopped Marlowe from killing that cow in the meadow. Whatever was wrong with her, it seems to be fixed. Even though Cyprian's gone, I still have powerful allies. I can still win this and bring glory to District Two in the way that so many other victors have in the past.

We continue through the clearing, the heat of the sun beating down on my neck and face. We stop for a moment to apply some more sunscreen to our exposed skin, then begin our journey again. After a few hours, the ocean becomes visible in the distance, bright blue and crystal clear. It looks like something out of a Capitol show. I've never seen the ocean, and I reckon Passion hasn't either, but neither of us let out any expressions of awe or shock. I'm glad we're able to keep our cool together. Another hour or so and we're closer to the ocean's edge, but still far enough away that it will take all night to reach it… and I'm tired. I haven't slept in days, and neither has Passion. The sun is nearly set, the entire sky a deep orange.

"Perhaps we should stop for the night," I say quietly.

Passion hums in assent. "Fine," she sighs. "I'll keep first watch. Get some sleep, because I won't be afraid to wake you up at midnight."

"I wouldn't expect you to," I say.

We sit together for a nice meal before I sleep, munching on some almonds and apples. As I'm laying out a blanket to sleep on, Passion suddenly grunts urgently. I look up just as she swallows her food and looks over to me, pointing to the horizon. "Look at that," she says, sounding mildly excited.

My eyes follow her finger. Out over the sea, illuminated by the setting sun, is land. An island, by the looks of it. I raise an eyebrow as I look back over to Passion. "I guess we have our destination for tomorrow."

Flux DuBois (14)- D8F

It's been nearly a day since I set out on my voyage over the water. The raft is more difficult to control than I had anticipated; it's like the shore doesn't want me to leave it. I use my branches to row the best I can, but the sun above me and the salty spray of the water are distracting.

I lay on my back on the wooden raft, watching the birds fly above. I've noticed that they fly back and forth from the island and they shore. It gives me hope that the island won't be barren. If birds can get some use out of them, then surely I can as well. I hope so. After a day of sitting on my raft, I'm sunburnt beyond belief and overwhelmingly thirsty. I'm starting to think that I might not make it to the island in time before I die, and I'm more tired than I think I've ever been. After spending all night and day rowing, I'm struggling to keep my eyes open. I blearily watch the clouds pass above my head, listening to the water gently lapping against my raft. Quite frankly, it's a miracle that this thing even floats. I'm lucky that Raven paid attention in training.

If Thimble weren't stuck on that cliff, I'm sure he would help, too. He's smarter than I am. I knew that the moment we met. What am I going to do without him and Raven if they both die and leave me all alone. I shudder and push the thought away. There's no use in worrying. I should just live in the moment like I've always done.

The sun shines through my eyelids when I close my eyes, sighing loudly. When will this nightmare be over? Wait, what am I talking about? The Games or this raft ride?

I suddenly feel a slight bump underneath my head. I shoot upward, turning to see the raft has hit some rocks under the water. I'm closing in on the shore around the island, the rocks beating against the raft sharply. The island itself is still a quarter of a mile away, but the raft isn't going to survive the violent float inward. I sigh for a moment, gathering all of my supplies into my bag and swinging it over my shoulder. I slowly submerge myself into the water, wincing as the cold water sinks up to my waist. The water is deep enough that I can't get a good footing on the seafloor, but the rocks still knock into my knees at every opportunity. I'm going to be beat up by the time I reach the island. Ahead of me, the land itself is covered with lush trees, dark and sinister. I suddenly suspect that this might not have been such a good idea, but it's too late now.

I eventually try to hold the raft above my head to avoid banging it on the rocks, but the thing is too large and heavy. I finally just set it between two pointed rocks, hoping I'll be able to find it when it's time to leave. That is, if it doesn't float away. Whatever. I don't have many choices at this point.

I wade in through the water til my feet hit sand. I grimace as I emerge from the water, the cool night air chilling me to the bone. I pull my jacket, still thankfully mostly dry, tighter around me and continue walking. A large rock bangs against my knee and I curse out loud at the pain.

"Goddamn rocks," I seethe, feet moving slowly through the water. I eventually make it onto the shore, where I collapse in exhaustion. I groan as I pick myself up again, shooting the incoming tide a look of disgust before getting out of the way. I stumble over the sand, observing my surroundings. There's nothing but trees as far as I can see, dense and dark. I can hear insects and birds, which gives me hope. Where there's life, there's water.

I can barely keep my eyes open as I move closer to the trees, hoping to find a safe place to sleep. They seem more ominous and sinister the closer I get. As I approach, I realize there's something at the edge of the forest. Something that looks manmade. I cautiously go up to the structure, drinking in the sight of something other than trees and sand and water and rocks, which is all I've seen for a week. It's a small archway, just tall enough for a grown person to walk underneath, made of white marble that's covered in ivy. Four columns hold it up, and a vaguely humanoid figure stands in the middle. It's completely still and overgrown with vines, but I still set down my bag to retrieve my hatchet just in case. As I get closer, I see the person is a statue, whose face is cracked and covered with green leaves. Another statue has crumbled beside her so that only the legs remain.

The place leaves more questions than it answers, but it provides a bit of shelter. I'm too exhausted to explore more tonight, so I gather together a bed of leaves and ivy and plop down, sighing. In my fatigue, I barely see the distant light from within the heart of the forest, blinking warmly at me from between the trees, before I close my eyes.

Blossom Urakaka (D5)- D9F

As the night settles over the arena, I look around my small paradise with pride. The cult would be proud of my ability to keep people out. Snares made of rope and deadfalls traps made from fallen pieces of stone are littered around the perimeter, carefully mapped and noted in my mind. If any tribute decides to explore the mountain like I did, they'll have a nasty surprise waiting for them. I just hope that there isn't a surprise waiting for me from the Gamemakers. I shoot another suspicious glance toward Snow's statue at the head of the building, then settle in for the night under a tree that has become my home base in these ruins.

I pick a juicy apple to eat and supplement it with some cherries from a different tree. The fresh water from the streams is delicious and cool. As I much down on my supper, I can't help but msis Capitol food. My stomach growls at the thought of a hearty stew and bread, complete with something sweet at the end. I always loved the sweet desserts they served us. If I win this thing, I'll gladly spend most of my days in the Capitol, feasting and relaxing. But if I don't, this is a nice substitute. It's better than living in the cult for the rest of my life.

The Panem national anthem suddenly starts playing, shaking me to my core, startling me like it does every evening. The Capitol insignia is visible through the broken columns and ceiling of the building. I settle in on my back, ready to see who died in the middle of the night last night. I could be sure since I had been sleeping, but I thought there were three cannon shots. Three less opponents between me and a life in the Capitol.

After the Capitol insignia dissolves, the face of the boy from Two appears. A Career! Good for whoever killed him. Hopefully the others will be Careers as well.

Sadly, they aren't. It's only the boy from Five and the girl from Six. I'm glad anyway. I saw the girl fight during training, and saw the boy's cunning interview. They were obstacles just as much as the Careers are. After the faces disappear, I roll over and start to settle in for a night of sleep, but then a familiar voice booms throughout the arena.

"Attention, tributes," Claudius Templesmith announces smugly. "You are hereby invited to a feast tomorrow at the Cornucopia. I'm sure you have noticed the various divine beasts throughout the arena. The death of each of these monsters will grant access to a valuable resource; but each beast has only one weakness. These weaknesses, in the form of weapons, tools, and other goodies, will be available for grabs tomorrow at midday. Come one, come all, to the feast of the gods."

His voice trails off into the silence of the arena, and the sky fades back into darkness littered with stars. A feast? I glance around my hideout. It doesn't seem like I have any reason to leave, let alone to get… a weapon? Something to kill a beast? Templesmith was too vague. I don't need any new supplies. I'll just let the other tributes battle it out and kill each other.

I roll onto my side with a sigh and drift off into sleep.

A bit of a calmer chapter after last week's chapters. The next one will be the feast! Let me know what you thought in a review. What are your predictions for the feast?

Thanks so much for reading!