Another massive hiatus that I didn't plan. This is becoming a trend. Oops.

As the sun glared down, Peeta pushed himself into a sitting position. Glimmer's head lolling off his shoulder. He blinked rapidly. Yawning, he looked to his sides and noticed the sleeping Careers around him…

"Oh no," he groaned. He looked to Glimmer, who had been nestled at his side through the night. They had fallen asleep on watch.

Peeta shook Glimmer lightly on the shoulder. "Glim," he muttered, "Glimmer, we gotta get up."

"Uh," she shook her head, still asleep. He shook her harder. "Peeta," she muttered into her sleeping bag. "Quit it."

"We need to get up," he insisted, trying to keep his voice low. "We overslept, and Cato will kill us if we don't wake him up soon."

That did the trick. Glimmer's head shot up, eyes wide, and she looked around. "How late is it?"

He looked up at the sun and shrugged. "Not sure," he admitted. "Nearly noon, I think."

"Shit," she hissed, pulling herself out of the sleeping bag. "We're both dead."

"We could run off," he joked, pulling himself to his feet. "Run away. Be our own alliance."

After packing up their sleeping bags, they looked over at their sleeping comrades. It was time to wake up the sleeping monster. Both of them stayed in one place.

"I'll take Algae," they both said in unison. Chuckling, Peeta glared at her. "I'll take Algae, you get Cato."

"No way," she insisted. "You wake up Cato. You're bigger. If he lashes out, you can take him."

"Doubt it," he retorted. "But regardless, he's less likely to lash out if you're the one waking him up."

"Still," she said, walking over to Algae. "You can wake up our ruthless leader." Then, she knelt down and shook the girl from Four's shoulder.

Jarred, Algae shot up. "Who-huh. What's going on."

"Get up, Algae," instructed Glimmer, glaring over at Peeta. "And you, wake him up."

Peeta suspected that waking Cato up after having overslept for several hours was likely to be more deadly than the rest of the arena combined. Still, he moved over to the sleeping boy and paused.

"What now?" demanded Glimmer, looking judgmentally at him. Really, if she was that impatient, she could wake him up herself.

Cato's sword laid at his side when Peeta picked it up. "Let's just move this out of the way."

Algae chuckled. "Coward."

Peeta just smirked. "Guilty," he admitted. He handed the sword over to her and shook Cato's shoulders before hastily jumping away.

The boy lunged to his feet, his legs tangled in the sleeping bag when he did. As a result, he flailed around for a moment before falling onto his side. Under any other circumstance, Peeta would have laughed. In fact, he was sure the audience would be laughing. In the arena, having forgotten to wake Cato up on time, Peeta just gulped nervously.

"What happened?" he demanded, looking around the clearing. "What time is it?"

Glimmer and Peeta shrugged awkwardly. "We think it's about noon," Peeta admitted. "We kinda fell asleep."

"You did WHAT?" he demanded, pushing himself out of the sleeping bag to tower over them. He advanced on them slowly, menacingly. "Why the hell—"

"Calm down, Cato," Glimmer snapped, glaring at him. Alright, Peeta decided. If it wasn't clear from her story the night before, it was now: Glimmer was far more courageous than him. "We fell asleep. So what? No one snuck up on us. We survived the night. Let's pack up and move on."

"Someone could have killed us," he snapped, glaring at them. "This is the Hunger Games. We need to be prepared for anything."

Peeta sighed. Cato was right, and it was uncomfortable to admit to that. They should have stayed awake longer. It was their job to keep watch. He felt like kicking himself, though he didn't say that aloud. Cato seemed as though he would be happy to assist.

"I'm sorry," he told Cato, cutting off his rant. "Next time, we'll have shorter, one man guard duties. We'll each get more sleep that way."

Glimmer rolled her eyes. "It's not that big a deal!" she insisted.

"Yes, it is," retorted Cato. "It is a big deal. Any of us could have been killed."

"And now we've lost a day's hunting," noted Algae, rolling her eyes. She had been packing while Cato was reprimanding them, and now had her bag ready for travel. "If we start now, maybe we can find someone tonight. I might be able to pick up a trail if we start looking."

Cato took a deep breath and nodded at her. "Good," he said. "I'll pack up now, and we can get going. Can I get my sword back?" he said, not really asking.

The girl from 4 nodded and handed over the sword. Satisfied, Cato turned back and quickly shoved everything into his bag, not caring to ensure that everything was organized. When he zipped it closed, struggling with his zipper, he turned back to the three of them.

"Which way do we go?" he asked Algae.

She looked around the little clearing they were in for a moment. It was interesting to watch her inspect the stream, looking for something that Peeta didn't know. Finally, she pointed to their left. "That way," she declared. "They would have gone that way."

"What makes you so sure?" asked Glimmer even as they moved in the direction Algae pointed.

Algae pointed to the stream. "That's the direction the stream is flowing. Going upstream would be way more difficult. Especially with an injury. No, they went with the flow of the water."

"Perfect," declared Cato, hurrying ahead. "Let's get moving."

"Slow down, Two," cautioned Algae. "We've gotta take this slow. If I'm gonna pick up a trail, I'll need time to check the woods. This will take time."

Growling, Cato nodded. "Tell me when you find something."

Slow was right. Peeta hadn't realized when he was at home watching the Games just how long the tributes walked around doing nothing. It was around noon when they started, and Algae kept them walking without any success until after sunset.

Every thirty feet or so, she would stop them to look along the trees and shrubbery. She would go over every tree branch and twig, every indent in the ground, to see if it came from the tribute they were hunting.

No one really spoke when they were walking. It wasn't that they worried about other tributes—being a Career pretty much assuaged those fears—but rather no one wanted to talk about home. It was this big taboo over their conversations, but there wasn't anything else to discuss.

Peeta's talk with Glimmer the night before was different. At night, despite the cameras, it was easy to forget they were being watched. The darkness was like a blanket that they could hide under. Talking about themselves felt more acceptable.

In daylight, however, the feeling of being watched was back with full-force. Any personal word they uttered felt as though it was being projected to the entire country, and no one wanted to have their home life on display. Peeta shivered at the thought.

Considering they were the Careers, and the other tributes were probably lone tributes hiding out in the forest—few tributes outside the Careers formed alliances before entering the arena—they were probably the most interesting thing the Capitol could project. That meant that everything they said likely would be on display for the country.

After dark, the anthem of Panem played throughout the arena. The seal was projected in the sky, but there were no faces. No one had died today.

"Should we set up camp for the night?" asked Peeta taking a swig from his water bottle. It was about half empty already, but he would try to make it last. He wondered if they others realized how quickly the sparse supplies they had brought would be depleted. Probably not if Glimmer's absent munching on a piece of jerky was any indication. "Maybe get an early start tomorrow."

"No need," declared Cato, looking grimly into the woods. Peeta followed his gaze. "I found our next victim."

In the distance, above the tree line, a plume of smoke was rising into the sky. A plume of smoke could only mean one thing: fire. Fire meant a tribute to light it. To Careers, which Peeta reminded himself he now was, a tribute meant a kill.

Now, there was no telling that the fire was actually created by a tribute. The Gamemakers could have easily set it to lure them to a pack of mutts. Yet, there had only been a day since the bloodbath, two if one counted the day being over. That wasn't really enough time for the Capitol to get bored. No, if that was a fire, a tribute probably lit it.

"Let's go," announced Cato, breaking into a run.

Peeta and the girls followed behind him as he ran through the woods. Peeta thought that this tribute couldn't have been that smart. Lighting a fire in the middle of the night was suicide. Especially with no deaths during the day. They had to have known that the Careers would be coming.

Still, Peeta took comfort in the knowledge that it wouldn't be Katniss. She was far too smart to make a rookie mistake such as that. No, someone else had screwed up. It might even have been the person they were tracking, to begin with. It was the same direction, after all.

The fire was farther away than Peeta realized, and the pack had to run for over an hour before finally seeing the firelight in the distance. Whoever lit it was probably still there, not having realized the danger.

Cato came to a halt.

"We go slowly and quietly from here," he instructed. "No need to make 'em run off."

The three of them nodded. Peeta unhooked his mace from his side and clutched it tight as they moved forward. He grimaced every time he took a step and a twig broke. The others were quieter, and he could tell that he would be the one to alert the tribute to their presence.

As the fire came more clearly into view, Peeta's shoulders tensed. They were nearing the tribute. Through, the branches, he could see the tribute. Peeta gulped. No, it wasn't Katniss who had lit the fire; he had been right about that.

Instead, it was the girl from District 8.

She was small and dainty; little in a way only the girl from Eleven could match. Vaguely, Peeta remembered that she was only thirteen. How could they let her come into the arena? She was so tiny.

On her arm, there was a poorly wrapped bandage seeping with blood. That must have been the trail they were following. The fire she had lit was small, but it illuminated her chattering teeth and the hands she was frantically rubbing together in front of it. She hadn't seen them.

"Hey, girly," declared Cato, jumping into the clearing.

At once, she screamed. Hastily, she scrambled to her feet and made to run, but Glimmer nocked an arrow and fired. It flew through the break in the trees, missing the girl by inches.

Though she didn't hit the girl, dodging the projectile caused her to stumble. Taking the opportunity, Cato ran forward and drove his sword straight through her stomach. As he pulled out, the girl crumbled to the ground.

Fast, brutal, and cold. That was all Peeta could think about as he grabbed the girl's bag and started ruffling through it. As he ruffled through, his face grew more and more annoyed before throwing it to the ground.

"Nothing?" asked Algae, looking a little put out.

Cato shook his head. "Nothing useful. Come on, let's get out of here before she starts to smell."

That was a little cold, thought Peeta, staring at the dead girl. She wouldn't start to smell for a while, would she? But he didn't want to be around her dead body either. For him, he didn't need another corpse haunting his mind. Still, he followed after Cato as they began walking a little ways away from the dead girl.

As they moved away, the firelight was muted, but Glimmer paused. "Shouldn't there have been a cannon?"

Peeta paused, not having realized that he hadn't heard anything. The girl was definitely down, dying soon, no doubt. But there wasn't the cannon to alert them that she was officially gone.

"I would say yes," said Algae, nodding. "There's no reason for them not to pick up the body."

"Unless she isn't dead," noted Glimmer.

Cato glared at her. "She's dead," he insisted. "I stabbed her myself."

"Where's the cannon?"

He glared at her. "I told you," he said shortly. "She's dead."

"Someone should go back and check," suggested Algae, turning as if to return to the campsite.

"I told you she's dead!"

"Then why haven't we heard a cannon?" demanded Glimmer. "If you're so sure, we would know by now."

"Look, just because the cannon's a little late doesn't mean she isn't dead!"

"But it could mean that she isn't dead," insisted Glimmer, throwing her hands into the air. "We don't need her crawling off, so we have to kill her again."

"I know where she was stabbed," spat Cato. "She's de—"

"We're wasting time," snapped Peeta, turning back to the fire. "I'll go check on her."

Returning to the girl from 8, Peeta noticed that, no, Cato hadn't killed her. Though she probably wished that he had.

Instead, she was lying on the ground, a stream of blood gushing out of her open wound. She was dying, and there was blood coming from her mouth, but she wasn't dead.

Peeta knelt next to the girl, smiling at her. Her eyes were opened and tearful as she struggled to breathe, desperately trying to form words. "Hi," he told her, voice gentle and soft.

She tried to form more words, but nothing came out. "Don't try to talk," he told her, shaking his head as he placed a hand on her soft, sallow cheek. "It'll hurt."

His throat constricted as she nodded at him, a thin, lipless smile trying to form words. He tried to speak to her. "I know you're scared." Her face scrunched in pain as she nodded. "And I know you want this to end. So don't, don't think about the pain, okay. Think about home."

Her eyes were almost glazed as he continued to speak. "You're right outside your house," he said, pulling out his knife. "Inside, you can hear your parents talking and your family bustling around. The door is just like you remember it as you clutch the doorknob." He held the knife to the side of her throat. "You push it open and they're waiting for you." His words caught in his throat as he put the frail little girl to sleep. "You're home." He slid the knife deeply across her throat.

Falling back, gasping, he looked at her as the blood poured out of her throat like a demented smile. She gargled as blood poured out of her upturned mouth before her body went slack.

BOOM!

Though it felt like an eternity, he only sat there for a moment before Glimmer shook his shoulder. "Peeta," she said, shaking him harder. "We gotta go."

Still, he sat there for another moment; staring at her body. Though she was dead, blood still oozed down the side of her neck, pouring from the wound. As though her heart was still pumping in her chest.

"I get it," she told him, tugging at him. "But we need to move."

Finally, Peeta nodded. He pushed himself onto shaking legs and walked with Glimmer back to Cato and Algae. The two were standing with arms crossed and deadpan looks as they waited for the two of them.

"So was she dead?" demanded Cato.

He had no answer for him. Peeta just gripped his knife tight in his hand as he stared into the ground.

"Twelve," he snapped, jarring Peeta from his thoughts. Looking up, Cato asked him, "Is she dead?"

"She wasn't," he said, his voice surprisingly steady. "But she is now."

Cato nodded. "Great. Let's head out of here. The others'll be waiting for us back at camp."

"Maybe we should head back to the river for the night," suggested Algae, already moving alongside Cato. "Make camp out here so we won't have to trek through the woods."

Peeta chuckled. "Clove won't like that," he commented.

Glimmer giggled. "But isn't that half the fun."

"Not if she kills us in our sleep for it," noted Peeta, smiling slightly at her, though that wasn't a joke.

"Doubt she'll take all of us," said Cato, weighing the options. He was the deciding vote, after all. They weren't very good at standing up to him when he got angry. Probably because he could kill most of them.

"Fine," he relented. "We'll camp for the night, but we're heading out early. We're running out of food, and I'm getting hungry."

Peeta looked oddly at him. He still had a decent amount of food; probably enough for another two to three days. But Algae and Glimmer were nodding along with him emphatically. Did they already work through all the food they had brought? The only bit of supplies he was running low on was water.

The group of them went off, not really trying to be quiet as they moved through the arena, anxious to get to their campsite for the evening. Or rather, for the night. Peeta couldn't wait to get some sleep.

Even the extra sleep he had had that morning wasn't really enough. The long day had been grueling. Peeta's muscles ached and his legs begged for relief. It would feel so nice to just relax for the night.

With that thought, Peeta hurried after the three Careers and off to the river.