It's like the earth is crumbling to pieces. I dodge towards the right, where land still remains firm. But even that doesn't last. I protect myself by curling into a ball as I go careening out of control. Weightless. Have I been run off a precipice? Jungle greenery blurs past, giving me no indications about where I'm headed. I could hit something and get crushed instantly. And the rocks keep falling.

Please, God, if I'm going to die, make it fast.

When my sanity returns, I realize that I'm not flying through the air. I've been rolling down a hill. Rolling, rolling, rolling…

"Gah!"

I crash into a bush, and a branch has stabbed me in the arm. But I can't stop. More rocks are assaulting me, gigantic things at that; so I stay low to the ground as they fly by. A sandy beach lies ahead. Instead of continuing past jungle territory, the rocks do something that baffles me. They bounce backwards like boomerangs. As if there's some invisible wall keeping this beach area protected. My sanctuary!

Keep. Crawling, Enobaria.

I can somewhat hear Brutus grunting while he avoids the rocks.

"Look in front of you!" I shout.

We both make it onto shore within a few minutes- though it might as well have been forever.

"The beach must be a safe zone," I conclude, gently pulling the branch out of my arm. It's a shallow wound, thankfully. Relief swirls inside me. "I wouldn't expect it to be permanent, though."

"Never," he agrees. We know to stay on guard twenty-four seven. A special arena just heightens the danger.

Finally, I test a beach-side tree to see if they actually hold water. Ocean water's not good to drink. One stab of my sword is enough. Success!

"Looks like we were right," I tell Brutus happily. "Drink up, big guy."

He prods his spear into the tree; and we both enjoy the water to our heart's content. While we're here, we impale a couple fishes, too. Not bad. You know, for the Hunger Games.

Leaves start rustling.

"Who's there?" Brutus demands.

"To the victors go the spoils!" someone female responds.

It's our alliance code. We agreed on saying this in the event that we got separated; so Brutus and I hold back from attacking.

The District 1 crew is alive!

"We've brought goodies," Gloss says as they approach. He carries two spears, and three machetes are slung on his back. Cashmere has dozens of throwing knives, plus, a bag with other supplies. Her brother hands me a machete. Brutus, of course, is given the spears. Then Cashmere distributes the knives amongst each of us. She also gets the third machete. Very useful, blades. I slip each knife- now I have ten- into my new holster belt.

"Ooh," I joke, "did my birthday come early or what?"

Once Cashmere and Gloss have their fill of water, everybody agrees to leave. Investigate this new, tropical place. Hey, you know the saying: it's a jungle out there. I've been told that jungles exist all over the world, farther south of Panem. Haven't ever visited one before, though. President Snow forbids international travel. I feel less secure in such a foreign environment- meaning I jerk my head at every little sound. Funny, how the Games make me so paranoid when I'm usually so confident. But do I really have a choice?

Welcome to my nightmare.

Suddenly, I feel something slimy twisting around my ankles. Like a snake. My vision drops below, and… worse than I thought. I'm in the clutches of a fat, fifty-foot long, anaconda. Its dark green skin helped it blend with the jungle, but it's kind of hard to miss now that it's slithering up my legs. Though I swing my sword right for its head, it dodges me. More strikes only result in more fails.

Slowly, my arms are losing function- oh, man, it's almost to my shoulders now- leaving me defenseless; but thankfully, I haven't angered the snake enough for it to squeeze me yet.

I let out a long "Psssst" to my allies. Yelling, showing any signs of fear, would only make this reptile crush me to death- or maybe eat me alive. Like I wanna die in the mouth of a snake.

"Oh my god," Cashmere whispers, stepping around the anaconda. Brutus and Gloss widen their eyes at the sight of me.

"A little help would be nice," I say. Brutus threatens it with his spear. Imagine how delighted I am when his trick works, and the anaconda starts to uncoil from me. Human or not, everything runs from sharp points. But I make a big mistake as it reaches my lower right leg.

I take one, itty-bitty step, and it tightens, remembering what a delicious meal it was about to have. Tighter. Tighter.

"Aah!" I scream.

Incredible fire races through me from foot to knee. Well, this sucks. I won't be walking for weeks. And by 'weeks', I mean, I'm gonna be wounded until I die.

Yes, I will die. There's no chance for me to survive without the use of both legs. But my allies unleash their combined weapon power; Brutus pins it down, and District 1's victors chop, chop, chop. Soon, the anaconda lies severed underneath my feet.

Isn't that strange? Usually, if a tribute were in jeopardy, their allies would ditch them in a heartbeat.

This year's tributes are definitely not typical.

Seconds after I hobble away from our reptile opponent, I catch a glimpse of something beyond comprehension.

"Crap," Gloss mumbles.

Crap is right. "Are you kidding me?"

The snake has regenerated… and now, a second head is attached.