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Waking up to chilled bones and growling stomachs is certainly not something any of us are used to. When I first open my eyes, my fingers and toes are so frigid and numb I can barely get them to move.

"We're going to learn to hunt today," I declare once we are all awake and nibbling on dried mango.

"Unless we all freeze to death," Cara mutters quietly.

I throw out the guns— the first pistol for me, the second one for Tris, and the rifle for Christina. Cara doesn't know how to shoot, so we leave her to make some everyday items using the natural material as we set off into the wood.

"I think it should be kind of like shooting people," says Christina as we tread in the fallen leaves, "But I'm pretty sure the animals are dumber."

I notice we are walking quite loudly, so I order everyone to stop. I listen around. Then, I hear a small rustle much like the one I heard yesterday. A very plump rabbit strolls into view. Putting a finger to my lips, I aim the pistol at its chest.

But I realize we had a mistake. Just the sound of the barrel clicking into place as I prepare to let the bullet fly makes the rabbit's ears immediately shoot up. Before I can react, it's tumbling back into the bush. I shoot twice, randomly into the leaves, but I have no idea whether I hit it or not.

"Well that worked," says Christina, sarcasm thick in her voice.

I let out my breath and walk toward the bush. I push the leaves out of the way to see tuffs of fur snagged on the branches, some bloody, and one bullet snug in the nook between two pebbles. Yep, just as I suspected. It managed to get away.

I pick up the bullet, hearing footsteps behind me, and Tris's chin leans on my neck. I turn around to face her.

"Any luck?" She asks.

I shake my head. "Where are we supposed to shoot them?"

She shrugs. "No idea."

"You think Cara might know fatality points of a rabbit's body, given that she's from Erudite?"

"It's worth a shot," she replies. Literally.

So we make our way back to camp. Cara looks up, then rolls her eyes as if she had expected us to come to her for help all along.

"We were wondering if you could give us a lesson on body parts of a rabbit?"

She jerks back in surprise. "Body parts?"

I bite back a grin. "Like, where to shoot them."

She physically relaxes. "Come here, students," she teases.

We spend a few minutes poking and prodding at a diagram of a rabbit Cara drew in the dirt. "So," she finishes afterward, "Your best bet is the neck or the eye."

We nod our thanks and set off again. About an hour later, we have exactly two rabbits and a sparrow. The sparrow was pure luck- Tris shot a full wing off of it when it was in flight and it just plummeted to its death, where she collected it with pride.

I shot both of the rabbits, one in the neck and one right through its nose when I had attempted the eye shot. Shooting small creatures is way harder than I thought it would be. They have enhanced senses and scurry around so quickly you could lose five bullets on just one of them.

Christina refuses to go back when she has nothing to show for, so I offer her one of my rabbits. She bats it away with her head held high, and we practically have to drag her the rest of the way back.

By the time we are back at our temporary camp, the sun has managed to become brighter and we aren't shivering anymore with fumbling fingers rigid in the cold. Cara has made four wooden skewers using a few sticks and the tip of a knife, and they lie around beside a pile of what I am guessing are failed attempts at her "skewer masterpieces". Her face lights up when she sees the meat.

"I've been starving the whole time with only dried mango to help, and I really need water!" She complains.

I've broken down into a sweat on the way back, and my tongue feels parched. She's right— we do need water, but we haven't got any.

"We have to move camp soon," I say, "Somewhere where there's fresh water."

Cara and Christina experiment on skinning and gutting the rabbits while Tris and I pluck the beautiful brown and white feathers off the sparrow.

"We should save these feathers," says Tris as I pinch off a wing-feather, "They really are something."

I smile and tuck a few white ones behind her ear. We continue to strip the bird naked of its colors, revealing the raw pink body underneath. It's quite tiny, enough only for one person's meal. I think about slicing the head off, but both knives are with the other girls.

"Want to check on how they're doing?" I ask.

We walk hand in hand to where Christina is making a face at the pink rabbit intestines in her hands. Cara doesn't seem to have a problem. She has a full piece of furry rabbit skin at her side and guts and everything gross, and she is examining an eyeball when we sit down beside them.

"Hey, Nose, whatcha got there?" I give her shoulder a nudge.

She glares at me. "Don't call me that. I had to dig pieces of bullet out of this rabbit's neck here, and now its neck is inedible."

I shrug, looking at the bare carcass of the rabbit. "Let's get cooking." I poke a skewer through the sparrow and Tris does the same with one rabbit. Christina is still frowning at the other one, the bleeding body in her hands. Tris laughs and goes to talk to her as I start a fire. The smoke makes my throat itch, and for the second time, I think of water.

By the time all three animals are done roasting, I can't bear it anymore. I need water, and the others don't argue when I suggest we go further into the forest. There must be a stream somewhere, or the animals wouldn't be able to drink, either.

I take a rabbit leg and munch on it as we go. Tris grins as she takes the other, and Christina grabs the sparrow. Cara is left with the body of the rabbit, but she doesn't mind.

We trudge on, but there is no sign of water anywhere. I know we will have to break for camp soon because it is getting chillier and darker. We are all panting heavily.

I feel lightheaded from dehydration. To stop myself from falling I lean onto a tree and nobody says a word as Cara collapses to the ground. The dryness in my mouth won't go away, and I hardly have any saliva to comfort my peeling throat.

My legs won't let me stand without the tree's help, but I clutch its bark and stumble around, watching the ground spin beneath my feet. Finally, I feel Tris's hand on my shoulder and I remind myself I have a mission.

What does water sound like? I question myself. Rushing. Flowing. Stream.

I regain my balance and tap Christina. She grunts as she stands up, but Cara won't. She won't stand. I squeeze my eyes shut as I feel like falling again, then open them and haul her up. She groans, but doesn't resist.

I move almost blindly through the trees when suddenly, I hear it. For a moment, all my senses come rushing toward me, but they falter again a second later. I run toward the sound, afraid that if I am too slow, it will flow away and I will be left with nothing. I run until I feel the tug of the current pulling at my ankles, then I bend down and let the cold, cold water rush into my mouth, soothing my tongue and throat. I let it slide in, drinking in as much as I can hold.

Someone drags me out, and I thrash around, needing more water, but I realize I shouldn't drink too much at once or I might get sick. So I sit down, slumping into the cool mud. I almost immediately lose consciousness.

I don't wake up until it is well into the night when I am beside a glowing fire burning itself out.