Moving from shadow to shadow through the forest, the pair made nearly a sound. When they would stop to look for signs of danger, they fought the urge to talk to one another between sips of water. They continued to fight the urge while walking, understanding that any careless action gave the advantage to the hunters, which they were not.

Arriving at the location of the roots, Pahl paused to assess the area. Only after a minute of silence, did he remove his pack and pull out his knife. "I don't think that they pass through this part of the forest often. I've never seen their tracks this deep in, but they could hear us from the clearing over the ridge, so continue to speak softly."

Gage nodded, and Pahl began to show her the plant that provided the nutrient root. He dug out the first root and showed her the parts to trim. After brushing the plain white root free of dirt, he dropped it into his pack.

Pahl kept his voice at a whisper. "Pile the trimmings here. I'll dump them away from this spot when we are done so that the Careers don't stumble upon our food source. We only need ten or twelve to share between us. If we are lucky, we will find some wild carrots near the edge of the clearing. They taste like candy compared to this bitter root."

Sighing, Gage reluctantly followed Pahl's lead and collected a few roots, finishing with the harvesting of a couple wild carrots that Pahl pointed out to her.

After disposing the remains from the trimming, Pahl guided Gage deeper into the forest along an animal trail. After a few minutes' walk, he stopped and smiled. He spoke softly as he surveyed the area. "Here, this is what I wanted to show you."

"What?"

His eyes drifted upward. "The trees."

Gage looked up and around with no change in expression. "Yep, they're trees alright."

"They're elms. Look how big they are. My grandmother told me that the elms became sick a long time ago, and their number shrunk. It was rare for them to become this big after the disease." Pahl spun slowly admiring the vast canopy. "I bet some of them are pushing eighty feet in height. Aren't they beautiful?"

"They're trees."

Pahl grinned uncontrollably as he held up a guiding arm in praise. "Look at the crooked twisted branches. There is nothing else quite like an elm. Other trees don't have branches that form such curvaceous angles."

"Curvaceous?"

"It's clear that ghosts have made these elms their home since the spirits have inevitably caused those unique angles in the branches. The larger trees are the preferred place from where they can sing during a summer gale and howl during the most ferocious blizzards. And between the wind storms that give them their voice, the more playful ghosts keep an ever watchful eye for the next opportunity for mischief."

Gage gave him the look. "Ghosts?"

"Yes, ghosts. Each time a ghost finds a home amongst the branches, it causes the branch to embrace the energy, bending the limb as it grows, giving the mighty trees their distinctive look. Elms are an apparition's favorite tree."

"I think that you've been living off roots for far too long."

"These elms are heaven on earth. The view from up there must be magnificent." Pahl's smile faded as his face became demure. "This is where I'm going to live when I die."

Biting her lip, Gage crossed her arms. "Not funny."

"I'm not trying to be. Don't you feel all the life around you? It just doesn't go away when it changes from one form to the other." Pahl took a deep breath and patted the bark of an elm. "This is why I elected to work in the paper mill back home. The bad smells of the mill bother me much less than the harvesting of the trees."

"I suppose that you hear the trees scream when they cut them down?"

"No, harvesting is just not my thing. Don't get me wrong, I'm not even against logging."

Gage dropped her arms to her sides. "What? After all that other crap you spued out, you don't mind logging?"

"Controlled harvesting can be good for a forest. We have been logging for a long time in District Seven, and the forests are thriving. I actually enjoyed going out to help with the seedlings every year. Even felt a bit of pride when I saw a giant roll of paper get loaded for transport."

Gage tucked her hands into her pockets. "So I probably did my homework on paper that you made?"

"Perhaps. I bet you got straight A's."

"I wish. You're talking to an average, right down the middle student: C's all the way.

Pahl smiled. "There are a couple paper mills spread across our large district. Your family probably maintained the rail that let us transport everything." Pahl gestured in the direction they needed to travel. "Have you had to work on the tracks? It must be back breaking"

Gage followed at his side. "No. But with my mom slowly succumbing to the morphling, I sometimes work on bridge maintenance in the summer so that we could eat. They often have us of high school age paint the bridges and other infrastructures. I was going to try to find work on the high speed rail as a stewardess after graduating school."

"What would you be doing right now back in District Six if you hadn't been picked for the games."

"Probably watching my replacement kill you."

Smiling, Pahl stopped at the edge of the forest where it opened onto grassland. "No doubt you would." The male tribute began to study the small prairie beyond, paying close attention to the tree and adjacent brush located on a bulge of land in the center of the clearing. "The tree is up there. It will be dark enough in a few minutes. The lowest point of the field is on this side, and there is a convenient animal path that will cover our tracks."

Squinting to pick up the faint trail carved in the prairie grass, Gage zipped up her jacket. "Will we need to crawl?"

"No. It is low enough that we will remain hidden from view from the other side if we hunch over. There is considerable risk going into the open here. The Gamemakers clearly planted these trees to be used as traps."

Gage took a deep breath. "I'll go. We need food."

"Okay. We can leave our packs here since they will only increase our profile crossing the field. Besides, we will only have enough time to fill our jacket pockets before it gets too dark." Pahl took off his pack and made himself comfortable on the ground with Gage doing the same.

As both tributes held-up for pending nightfall, the apprehension of the simple task incited each to remember their first day of the games. When Pahl's hands began to shake, he tucked them into his coat pockets. Gage's mouth began to feel dry, forcing her to sip water. Each looked at the other and saw their reflection in tight solemn faces.

Pahl's hands fumbled as he removed the cap to his water flask. "I don't remember walking up to the stage."

"At the television interview?"

"At the reaping. I remember hearing my name called. I vaguely remember how my entire body went numb, but I don't remember actually walking up to the stage."

Gage turned away to stare out at the field. "No, I remember walking up to the stage. I was so full of rage that I remember everything. I wanted to scream. I don't know why I didn't."

Remembering his experience on reaping day, Pahl hesitated with his next question. "Did you cry?"

"Of course I did. It wasn't until I was on the train. You?"

"When my mom came to say good bye."

Gage bit her lip. "I don't want to talk about reaping day. Let's talk about something happy."

"Okay. Like what?"

"The food." Gage crossed her legs and smiled. "Did you have the ice cream?"

"Hmm. Of course. I ate myself sick every day. However, by the end of training, I had completely lost my appetite. I couldn't keep anything down, and my mentor had to force me to eat."

"Oh." Gage turned away with pursed lips.

Taking notice of her reaction, Pahl swiped his hand through the grass out of frustration. "Sorry."

"No, it's not your fault. The negative heavily outweighs the positive. Not much that we can do about it." Gage stared out at the tree. "Do you think it's dark enough?"

"Ya. Follow me and stay low." Pahl got up and stepped carefully out of the forest into the animal trail. With Gage in tow, he moved silent and swift, stepping carefully towards the tree. When they reached the center, Pahl quickly canvassed the surrounding prairie for movement. "Try to stay on this side of the tree. If the Careers are watching this tree, they are probably spying from the other side of the prairie. Once, I stumbled upon one of their empty lookouts on the other side. We just need to fill our jacket pockets to have a few days' supply of protein."

"Okay." Gage could see that much of the low hanging nuts had been picked, but there would still be enough to fill her pockets.

The pair moved slow and sure amongst the base of the tree, gathering nuts from the dried grass and low-level branches.

When they had nearly filled their pockets, Pahl turned, alerted by his attentive hearing. Gage took noticed and instinctively froze. Both could hear the sound of footsteps approaching from the other side of the tree.

Gage drew her knife as Pahl pulled her low to the ground. Following his lead, she hid with him in the adjacent brush. Lying together in the shadows, their outline resembled a fallen log overgrown by wild vegetation.

Pahl gestured that she should pull her arms tight under her upper body. He took hold of her tensed hand that griped the knife and guided it beneath the dried grass to camouflage the shiny steal. He lowered his voice to a faint whisper. "We are deadwood. Don't even move your head until their gone."

A male and female Career Tribute approached the tree, stopping at the trunk. With only tiny shifts in the Career's feet, an eerie silence filled the air. The scent of their sweaty, well-fed bodies drifted into the brush.

"Are these animal or human tracks?" The male voice spoke in a normal tone.

"Not sure." The female spoke sounding frustrated. "How long are we going to hang out here?"

"Don't know. These last three can't stay hidden forever."

"Hopefully the Gamemakers will flush them out for us."

Gage began to pull her knife from under the dried grass when Pahl put his trembling hand over her own. Without turning his head, he looked into her eye and mouthed the words: No, please.

The male Career Tribute yawned aloud. "These rats have buried themselves deep into holes somewhere. Either the Gamemakers will have to force them out, or we'll just have to be more patient and wait for the hunger to cause them to make a mistake."

"I'm sick of waiting." The female tribute picked a couple nuts from the tree. "Maybe we should take the opportunity to eliminate the other two."

"One or more of them took out two of us a couple days ago."

The female Career huffed. "I still think those two got into a fight. One killed the other but the survivor bled out before making it back to base camp. They hated each other even in training."

"Perhaps."

"Those three remaining weaklings are no threat to us, even if they outnumbered us. We should take out my partner now."

"No!" The male Career's voice echoed through the brush. "We stick to the plan and wait until the last weakling before we eliminate the other two. Are you sure that you can take out your district partner?"

"I'm sure. He still lets his guard down when he's alone with me. It won't be a problem."

Gage felt Pahl's trembling for it overshadowed her own. By the full moonlight that leaked into the deepest parts of the brush, she could see the sweat forming on his brow. She let go of the handle of the knife. Slowly, she wrapped her fingers around the back of Pahl's hand and squeezed gently, which he returned in acknowledgement.

The female Career Tribute spat. "These nuts are disgusting. Do you think they're eating these?"

The male Career Tribute chuckled. "Don't know, don't care. I'll stick to the bread from our sponsors."

"Have we ever checked out that clump of tall trees over there?" The female began pacing in circles as she continued to spit out remnants of the nut.

"I don't know. There are so many in this arena. We can investigate tomorrow after—"

A cannon booms, signaling a death in the arena.

The female stopped in her tracks. "Ah, they must have found one of them. It came from near base camp."

"Let's go check it out. I have no interest in spending the night here." The male tribute began walking. "We'll come back here tomorrow and hunt."

As the pair of Career Tributes departed, Pahl's breathing started to labor. Turning his head away from Gage, he started to sob into the grass.

Gage began to rub his back in gentle circles. "I know. Me too." She combed a couple dried leaves from his hair. "Me too."

Stretching out onto his stomach, Pahl buried his face in his arms and quietly wept with Gage continuing to console him.

After several minutes, Gage crawled out of the brush and surveyed the area before returning to Pahl's side. She rested on her knees and leant over his ear, whispering. "They're gone."

Pahl said nothing, keeping his head down, turned away.

"You kept your cool and didn't panic. That was impressive."

He said nothing.

"I wasn't going to ambush them with my knife; that would be foolish. I just wanted it ready in case. I was just as scared as you. Couldn't you feel me trembling?"

He remained silent.

"I don't think any less of you." Gage rubbed his back.

Wiping his nose, Pahl raised his head. "I'm an idiot."

"Perhaps a small one." Gage smiled, tapping his shoulder with her fist. "You're no less than a man for being frightened."

Pahl raised himself up onto his elbows. "I bet many think that I'm the farthest thing possible from being a man."

Gage stretched out onto her stomach next to Pahl. "Well, they're not here in the arena are they? We all have to face this in our own way."

"My great-uncle was the best of men. He taught me what it means to be one, and he was the gentlest soul that I have ever known."

Gage bit a nut in half and passed a half to her friend. "What did he teach you?"

"Killing or risking your life has absolutely nothing to do with manhood. Real men go to work and not complain. They play with their children every day. Being a man means being there for those who depend on you, listening to their concerns, and being patient. That's what I wanted to be."

Gage pressed her shoulder against his. "And so you are."

For the next hour, as Pahl composed himself, Gage stared out across the prairie from the safety of the brush. Her thoughts returned to her father since Pahl's description fitted him. Her father so hated to be away during the long summer months doing rail maintenance, but the family needed to eat. She and her siblings understood his sacrifice.

However, her mother had no worthy description. They always had to hide money from her; still, her mother had less respectable means of income to feed her morphling addiction. As fate would have it: they saw their mother every day, but she was never really there.

"Sorry if I brought you down." It was Pahl's turn to push against his friend's shoulder.

"No, I was just thinking of home. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes. It's odd though."

"What?"

"Every time that I become this frightened, I come out of it thinking that I've never truly lived, that I've missed out on something."

"Like what?"

"I don't know." He shook his head, staring out at the prairie.

"We are young."

The male tribute released a drawn out sigh. "I'm not naive about the world, I..." He looked down at the ground briefly, collecting his thoughts. "I've experienced what there is to experience, but I feel as if I've let too many of those special moments slip by. I don't know; it's hard to explain."

Gage patted his hand and smiled. "I get it. I actually understand you this time."

...

Night had arrived with the full moon illuminating the prairie. The light breeze of the day had become still as the night temperatures dropped, forcing the pair to zip up their jackets in the brush. Having pulled their hoods over their faces in defense form the rugged mosquitoes, the two tributes pressed their bodies close together to conserve their heat.

Peering from beneath her hood, Gage stared up at the moon. "I think that I'm going slightly mad. For the first time in my life, I am imagining what it would be like to dance on the moon. It must be awfully cold up there. Do ghosts feel hot or cold?"

"I think that ghosts are always comfortable being free of material burdens. You can take any form you like. Become the wind if you want."

"That would be nice." She turned onto her side, propping her head upon her palm. "I'm so going to have fun when my games are over. I will become the wind and dance around this world. I'm going to mess everyone's hair, stir the waters, and lift eagles high into the sky."

"Will you come visit me in my giant elm trees?"

"Sure." Gage smiled. "If you promise to dance with me through a field of sunflowers."

"Deal."

Gage sat up. "Are we going back to your campsite? I don't want to sleep here."

"It does seem as if all the mosquitoes have found us. We first need to collect our packs. With the Careers returning to their base camp, we can probably move quicker on our return." Pahl slowly rose to his knees. "Ready?"

Gage took his hand. "Ready."