It all happens so quickly, doesn't it? The ground shakes. The tributes panic. Screams, slashes, shouts. A few who still have prescence of mind grab on to something, anything strong, and wait. That's what happens with the girl from Seven, who can always find her balance. She climbs from her precarious perch onto a lower, sturdier branch, and waits. The boy from Eight clutches the trunk of the tree, his district partner another thick limb, and together they shake, like berries on a bush in the wind. In a split second, they are strong again.
It all happens so slowly, doesn't it? The tributes from One, Two, and Four have the Cornucopia to cling to, and several seconds to get there. A crucial thing they train you to do in those districts is make use of short amounts of time. In a matter of seconds, six tributes can gather all they can and sprint to the strong structure, barely even vibrating. Good thing there are ladders.
It all happens so loudly, doesn't it? The boy from District Twelve smiles to himself as the sound of the ground fills his ears. It's so loud, no one can hear him slip by. He could just go for a tree, but he likes to take his chances. District Two gives him a nod. They share a ladder, and neither dies.
It all happens so quietly, doesn't it? The boy from Five can't hear anything but his own heart pounding as he races somewhere, anywhere, nowhere. He slips, falls, drowns. He's found his water source at last. It's silent and unremarkable. Almost too peaceful for death.
The earth rumbles, and the ground shakes. And retracts. And descends.
Because this is the Quarter Quell. And the Gamemakers are too creative to be limited to only one arena.
~000~
We are a district devoted to discovery. We invent new things, develop new plans, forge new frontiers. All for someone else's glory. It's kind of ridiculous, actually.
We voted for the mayor's son to be sent into the arena. Most of us don't even know why we did it. And we watched him die, without dignity, without a fight, without even a choice on his part.
And do you know something? We made a vow. A couple of vows, actually.
One: Our tributes will, from now on, always be more than numbers. They will be people worth discovering.
Two: Our tributes, from now on, will always have dignity, no matter what.
Three: Our tributes, from now on, will always choose their own path.
We are the clever ones, the silent but proud ones. Our victories are small and our defeats are quiet. We do not let anyone or anything get to us.
Because we are not stupid.
