The trip to the arena was fast but the interior of the hovercraft that had picked the two district four tributes up was like what Wren imagined a prison would look like and it made her jumpy. A woman in a white coat approached Wren carrying a syringe. "Give me your arm" she ordered in a no-nonsense type of voice .

Wren hesitated slightly but lifted her arm slowly. She winced when she felt the sharp stab of pain as the needle inserted the metal tracking device into her forearm. Wren had always wondered how the Gamemakers kept track of all the tributes; now she knew.

When they got to the arena Wren was led to her preparation chamber where Raoul met her and helped her change into the clothes that were the same for every tribute; simple tawny trousers, dark green short sleeved t-shirt, sturdy brown belt and a thin, hooded black jacket that Wren didn't think would give her much warmth in the arena.

The boots, worn over skin-tight socks, were better than Wren could have hoped for. Soft leather like she had never seen before. She had never worn shoes back home at her district. Living near the sea she didn't see the use of shoes when all day long she would walk on the soft sand that was heated by the sun's rays. Not many people in her district wore shoes but when they did they wore simple sandals made from seaweed or dried palm bark.

The boots had a narrow flexible rubber sole with treads that Wren knew would be helpful for when she needed to run. Although she would most likely take them off and store them somewhere when the game began, she did like to feel the earth under her feet. And her feet would be so much quieter without the clunky boots.

She pulled on the boots and stood, she was surprised to see Raoul fidgeting on his feet in front of her with tears in his eyes. His arms were crossed over his chest defensively and his bottom lip was trembling with the effort of holding back his tears. "How does it all fit?" his voice was quiet and Wren could imagine him bawling his eyes out once she had left, make up running and leaving black streaks down his cheeks.

Wren stretched for a moment; testing the clothes and then nodded "their fine, it all fits perfectly" she said and then Raoul let out a loud sob and enveloped Wren in a tight bear hug, almost lifting her off of the floor. Wren hugged him back as best she could, relishing in the last bit of human touch she would probably get. Wren didn't ponder on that thought and instead pulled away from her stylist when a pleasant female voice announced it was time to prepare for launch.

Raoul clenched one of her hands in his as they walked over to the stand that would take Wren up to the arena, before she stood on it Raoul tugged on her hand and she looked at him. "Now listen here girly; when the gong sounds I want you to get the hell out of there! Put as much distance between you and the cornucopia as you can, you're not up to the bloodbath that will happen there, make some weapon and take the other tributes out without taking them head on. A lot of the tributes are bigger than you, you wouldn't stand a chance."

The female voice announced that there was only ten seconds left and Raoul looked more panicked than Wren felt. "Just try to stay alive for as long as you can!" He cried as he ushered Wren onto the circular metal plate, he placed a quick kiss on both of her cheeks and then stepped back as a glass cylinder was lowered around her.

Wren panicked for a second when the metal plate began to push her up into complete darkness but then she calmed when she smelt the wondrous scent of fresh air and held her head up proudly, like Finnick had told her to. For a moment her eyes were dazzled by the bright sun and when her eyes adjusted she saw a forest and an almost nonexistent smile appeared on her face, her hope swelled. Maybe she could survive longer than she had first thought.

It was another sixty seconds before the gong sounded and all the tributes rushed towards the cornucopia Wren ran as fast as she could, her hand snatching up a backpack quickly as she made a beeline for the forest to her left.

She didn't stop running until the sounds of screaming had faded and then she stumbled on in a fast walk that she kept up for a couple hours until she came upon a huge tree with a large dog-sized hole hidden under the roots. She crawled in and rooted through her bag, the pack was made of a sturdy material. She pulled out each provision one by one, examining them and then laying them on the floor in neat lines; one thin black sleeping bag, a pack of crackers, a small pack of dried beef, A box of wooden matches, A small coil of thin wire, and a two litre metal flask for holding water that was bone dry.

No water. Wren became aware of the dryness in her throat and mouth, the cracks in her lips healed instantly; a small injury like that was no problem for Wren but she wouldn't last long without water, even werewolves could die from dehydration. She could go longer than most humans without water but it would soon become a huge problem.

The canons announcing the deaths startled her and she counted them off in her head as they rang out through the forest, alerting all the other tributes that eleven of the tributes had been killed during the bloodbath at the cornucopia.

That meant that there were only thirteen tributes left in total and Wren had no doubt that all the tributes from the career districts were still alive.

As she refilled her pack she remembered the lake that was back at the cornucopia, surely that wasn't the only source of water in the arena? She looked out at the surrounding area from her hiding place and saw a plump rabbit nibbling on the small tendrils of grass peaking out through the mud. She grabbed a rock by her foot and threw it at the animal's head. It hit with a dull thud and the rabbit squealed in shock and pain before flopping to the floor dead, its legs twitching and kicking. Wren had hunted fish like that in the shallow waters back in district four when she didn't have the time to swim out into the deeper waters.

She crawled out of her hole and grabbed the now completely still rabbit, she knew a fire was a bad idea but the sun had not yet set and she needed to cook the rabbit. It wouldn't do to eat raw meat on live television.

She dug a hole with an appropriate rock she had found and then began collecting dry wood and tree fungus for tinder and piled it into the hole. She began hitting two stones together to get a spark, wanting to save her matches, and after twenty minutes finally got the fire going. There wasn't too much smoke but enough to be seen. She had already skinned and gutted the rabbit with a sharp rock and tied it to a strong stick with the wire.

She left the head, feet, tail, skin and innards under a pile of leaves a few feet away from her hiding spot and then, before she turned back, she spotted some bowl shaped leaves. She jogged towards them and to her relief there were a few that were partially full with clear water. She drank from one and sighed blissfully as the cool water trickled down her throat. She left the rest for the morning and jogged back to her camp.

As the rabbit cooked she kept watch on her surroundings, her ears caught any and every sound but nothing threatening could be heard or seen. The sun had almost finished its descent by the time she deemed the rabbit cooked enough to eat and she quickly stomped out the remaining embers before she began to eat.

She wrapped the leftover meat in some of the large leaves she had found and tied it securely with her shoelaces. She stuffed it into her bag and then started walking to find a new place to camp for the night.

She found a tree that looked as if the dirt had been removed from underneath and decided it was the best she was going to find and pulled her sleeping bag from her pack, curling up behind one of the large roots , she dozed. She wasn't asleep but not fully awake either.

She woke when the anthem for the death recap began playing and she looked through the branches to see the seal of the capitol, which appeared to be floating in the sky.

The anthem faded out and for a moment the sky went dark and then the first dead tribute was revealed; the girl from district three. That meant that Wren was correct in assuming that the career tributes from one and two had survived the cornucopia. Then Dylan's face appeared and Wren sucked in a deep breath. She could hear the whirring of a camera as it, no doubt, zoomed in on her shocked face. She had expected him to die but she hadn't expected to feel such grief over it. She shook the feeling away and pulled her attention back to the death toll.

The girl from district five was next, then both tributes from six and seven, the boy from eight, both from nine. There was only one dead tribute to go and Wren wondered briefly if it was one of the district twelve tributes but it wasn't it was the girl from ten.

Wren felt a relieved thrill sweep through her and wondered why. Her fellow tribute was dead and soon she would be too; she knew she had no chance of winning when there were still career tributes left. Maybe if there was just one, she might have had a chance.

She snuggled back down into her sleeping bag as the anthem began playing again and fell back into her half-asleep-half-awake slumber.

It was close to dawn when Wren was awoken by an ear-splitting scream. Wren sat up quickly and scanned her surroundings, that scream had sounded too close for comfort. She waited to see if any tributes were coming in her direction, listening for footsteps or talking. The birds were still singing and she heard some sort of animal snuffling around in the bushes a few feet from her.

Wren stuffed her sleeping bag back into her pack and crawled out from under the roots. She went to take another drink from the bowl-like leaves and filled her flask up after she had remembered she had one.

Wren began hiking in the opposite direction from where she had heard the scream and kept a look out for things she could use as a weapon. She had her fangs and claws but they would be useless against somebody with a knife or a bow, she had seen one at the cornucopia and knew that someone would have grabbed it.

She found a branch that was just shorter than her and was almost dead straight. She could make a fish spear out of it all she needed now was and sharp rock and her other shoelace. She found the rock easy enough and sat with her back against a tree as she set to work on tying the rock to the stick.

Once she was finished she tested the makeshift spear out by throwing it at a tree. It sailed through the air well enough, staying in a straight line and when it hit the tree it took off a huge piece of bark. She smiled as she picked it up again and then the sound of voices was carried to her by the wind.

She looked around her but didn't see a suitable place to hide. The voices were getting louder and she started panicking. She crouched behind a low bush, spear at the ready, and hoped that she wouldn't be found.

A group of about five, maybe six, tributes walk into her line of sight. The brutish boy from two, Wren wasn't sure what districts the other tributes were from but she recognised the boy from twelve and wondered what had happened to their star-crossed lovers plan.

Wren knew it wasn't that unusual for alliances to form this early in the game. She watched them curiously as they discussed about finding someone, most likely the girl from twelve. She had noticed that the boy from two had a grudge against 'the girl on fire' because she had gotten the highest score.

She crouched lower behind her bush when Peeta looked in the direction she was hiding but he hadn't seen her, or was just pretending that he hadn't because he turned back to the boy from two and said "she'd be trying to find a water source."

"Are you sure?" the thuggish boy from two asked with a glare and Peeta nodded "then lead the way!" he growled and shoved Peeta. "I still think we should just kill him, Cato" A blonde girl with the bow that Wren had seen at the cornucopia, and a quiver of arrows strapped to her back, said when Peeta was a few feet away from them. "As soon as we find the girl from twelve we will!" Cato snarled back and stomped off to follow Peeta.

As soon as the group disappeared Wren slumped to the floor and let out the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding. She rubbed her hands over her face "that was close" she mumbled to herself and then quickly pulled herself up off of the floor.

She found herself standing near a berry bush and hurried to strip the fruit from the branches, scared that the group of tributes would come back and see her. She stuffed a few in her mouth and moaned as the sweet juices filled her mouth.

Wren wasn't worried about poisons; her metabolism was greater than humans and would burn off the poison before it did her any harm.

Wren wanted to take some of the berries with her but had nothing to carry them in that wouldn't crush them so she left it. She was confident that she would be able to find some more. She took a sip of her flask and contemplated on whether to chance following the careers or to go back to the cornucopia to see if she could find a better weapon.

She decided on the latter, it would take her at least a day and a bit to get there at a slow walk. She stuffed her flask back into her pack and then hefted it onto her shoulder, listening briefly to see if she could hear the tributes, which she couldn't, she began walking back the way she had come.

She passed both of her camps, saw that some animal had dug up the scraps of her rabbit and refilled her flask from the bowl-like leaves again.

Wren entertained herself as she walked by humming tunes to the birds above her and listening as they sang the tune back. She was smiling when she started hunting for a place to sleep for the night. She found a large bush that on closer inspection turned out to be a ring of multiple bushes and fought her way to the centre, pleased to find it concealed her perfectly.

She unwrapped the rest of her rabbit and ate a little with one of her crackers, then washed it down with a sip of water. Wren missed the foods she had eaten in the capitol with the rich sauces, the tender meats and even the deserts; she could really do with a slice of chocolate cake.

She fell asleep that night dreaming of all the deserts and sweets she had eaten at the capitol.

A/N; I have become obsessed with OC's lately :) and also I'm planning another Drarry fanfic. Just sorting out some little details but it still might be a while until I deem it ready to be uploaded lolz.