As I rose up into the games, I glanced to my left and got my last glance at Gren. His tired eyes were crinkled with concern, and then he was gone. I wondered if Zoe was going okay at the sponsoring booth by herself. Gren had insisted he come with me and not Zoe, so I suppose he knew she would be fine.
As soon as I up the top I squinted my eyes shut. The glare from the sun was too bright from the dull white-washed room I was just in. I forced my eyes open and looked around. I didn't gasp at the surroundings like the other tributes were. We were on a savannah plain, and I was facing the side of the cornucopia, with the mound of goods facing me. The sky was bright blue with not a cloud in sight, and the sun was huge and white, bearing down on all twenty four tributes. In front of me, behind the cornucopia, was a field of what looked like wheat. To my left was a forest that stretched halfway round the arena and the rest was occupied by a winding river.
I was already calculating my way towards the Cornucopia. I could make it if I ran. I searched the weapons mound and saw my prize; a belt filled with daggers. It looked like someone had placed it there just for me and maybe the game makers did because of my performance. I allowed myself a smile when I saw it snugged right next to a black back-pack. The less valuable stuff was scattered closer to me but I didn't even glance at that. I shuffled my right foot back to the end of the podium I was on, not enough space to get a good push off, but it was better than nothing. I didn't look at my competition; I don't think I could bear calculating killing them all yet, especially Jet.
When the gong sounded I pushed off with my right foot. The tribute next to me was still gazing awe-struck around, but I didn't pay him any attention. I was off; running so fast I was afraid I'd fall over. I was the first to reach the cornucopia, leaping over the other weapons and snagging my belt and back-pack. I leapt down on the other side of the mound before the first tributes came. I ducked under the one that tried to punch me, but luckily he was more focused on getting weapons that chasing me. I was still running. When the boy I recognized from district eight stood in front of me, I simply just hooked a dagger from my belt and threw it at his chest. It stuck and he went down without even a change of expression. An arrow nicked my shoulder, but I kept sprinting from the bloodbath that always came on the first day. I crouched when I ran by the dying boy, and grabbed my dagger from his chest; wiping to blood on my leggings as I ran to the wheat field, not even noticing the first cannon blast of the fifty-seventh Hunger Games.
I could hear the sounds of the massacre behind me as I ran, but I didn't stop to join in. I just kept running. I closed my ears to the cannon blasts and looked around to see if anything the Capitol put in the wheat field was going to distract me. I turned sharply left and kept running for about two hours or so, moving diagonally to the savannah plain. I slowed down a bit after two hours, know I had to find some water or the like, rolling up the sleeves of my jacket. I slowed to a walk and glanced around for anything alarming, then squatted down and quickly sorted through my pack. In there, I found five packets of dried beef, a can of peaches, two empty one litre water bottles, water purifier, a hat and a sleeping bag with canvas. As I packed it away I smiled again, happy with my found, but the smile grew fixed when I heard the hurried flutter of small feet. I had noticed too late though, because as soon as I looked in the direction of the swaying wheat fronds, someone was crashing into me.
The person caught herself as soon as her hands touched the ground, flipping backwards on her hands away from me. I scrambled up as well, and we were facing each other. By her hair I recognized her as the tribute from district four. She was thirteen, I think, and had had he haired dyed aqua blue by her crazy stylist for the show. She was slight, softer looking than her male counterpart, but with the same bronze skin that clashed crazily with her hair. Her eyes were a soft blue with a darker shade of blue flecked around the pupil. I immediately grabbed my biggest dagger and swung it round in my hand. She stayed opposite me, watching me with wide, fearful blue eyes. And then I realized I couldn't kill her.
I motioned for her to go, but she stayed where she was. I saw she had a small red back-pack and no weapons, but I presumed by her flipping skills that she would be quite a hand-to-hand combat opponent. She hesitantly opened her mouth. "I saw your training score." She said. I grimaced at the memory of my high training score. Ten was okay by my standard, but according to others it was really great. But it wasn't even the highest of all the tributes. All I had done was fling knives around. I mean, sure, they had hit all the targets, even the ones I had thrown over my back, but, a score was a score, it didn't mean anything. I was still crummy at camouflage.
"I'm Xenia." She said, now half poised for flight. I didn't want to scare her away, so I smiled. Her shoulder sank down an inch, and her pinched, worried face smoothed a little.
"Hi, Xenia, I'm Mesilla." I said back. She almost relaxed completely now. Her eyes had gone from scared to curious.
"How'd you get such a high score anyway? I only got seven." She asked, pouting a little.
"Eh," I waved a hand vaguely, "I flung some knives around. How'd you get yours?"
"Flipped a bit and painted myself green." My attention snapped to her words.
"Are you good a camouflage?" I asked. She shrugged and said she was okay at it. I considered the question: would she be a good ally? She didn't look like she would be able to kill me if we became friends, and I could easily part with her before I had to do her in. I made a decision and held out a hand to her. "Ally?" I asked her. Her blue eyes widened and she dove at me, shoving me to the ground. I tossed her off me angrily, sending her flying into the wheat. Only then did I realize that she had pushed me under the speeding flight path of a big, bright blue butterfly.