I got away from the Cornucopia fast. Before I die I'll have something that I can be proud of, then. I outran three Careers. Or at least…outflew, or outflittedfromtreetotree, anyway.

I stay up in my tree. It's very thin, not the best for hiding, but I'm near the top and my size lets me blend. It's a pine, I think. Tall with waxy, dark green, needle-y leaves. The fresh smell of it wafts up my nose, refreshing me. I feel the adrenaline from earlier settling down. I was moving for the last few hours, so I'm probably at least several miles from the Cornucopia by now. I'm exhausted. I try to quiet my frantic sucking of breath, and recline in the tree, opening my pack.

Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.

I almost drop the pack, but manage to grab it again and sling it over my shoulder. The cannons. Eleven. I wonder if anyone I remember was killed. I'll find out at night. I'm pretty sure Katniss survived.

It turns out I don't need to wait until night.

I watch Katniss pass right under me. She has an orange pack and a knife. Good for her. I know if I want my alliance plan to work, I should reveal myself right now. But something keeps me from doing that.

She uses the knife to cut some stuff from the tree. She puts it in her mouth, sort of gags, then begins chewing and walking again.

Pine bark. I forgot. We have next to no pines in Eleven. I drop down once she's out of sight behind a clump of bushes and find a nice sharp rock. I find the hole she's left and get some bark out of it. I decide to follow her.

I get my pack and get up into the highest tree I can see. There she is – still walking. I lower myself and jump into the next tree as quietly as I can. And again.

We continue for an hour, during which the sky gets continually darker. I feel a chill sweeping across my tree and shiver. I loathe the cold. Katniss stops and uses a wire to do something. She's from Twelve – why is she setting snares? Hunting is illegal. If she's a huntress, she should have her back whipped raw, and maybe she'd even be dead.

We continue for five minutes or so, to a willow clearing. I sit back in my willow. She walks over to another willow and easily climbs it. She rolls out a sleeping bag. I almost moan in longing. Cold is starting to easily penetrate my jacket. I wish I had a sleeping bag.

I watch, absolutely silently, as she straps herself in and pulls branches around her. You can still see her, but she's somewhat camouflaged.

The anthem plays. I watch the faces, not too concerned over who lived and died. Okay, the girl from Three. Then – yes, the boy from Four, the one that was killed by his district partner after trying to kill me. Sneak's still alive. I wait till we get to Eleven, but Thresh is too. Well, of course he is. Peeta survived as well. Katniss relaxes and stops moving. I pray she's asleep.

I drop and walk over to a berry bush that she missed, shivering uncontrollably. Good. Wheatberries. We eat these in Eleven all the time. We call them that for their golden coloring. I strip off a handful and put them in my mouth, relishing the moisture that comes gushing out. I finally realize how thirsty I am. Lingering panic kept me from noticing it. But if I can find more wheatberries, I'm good to go. I wonder how Katniss missed the gold. Maybe she doesn't know about wheatberries.

I open my pack quietly. A full water skin. A pair of socks, some iodine, and a bottle of pills labeled Poison – dissolves in water. I've already wrestled with myself over if I will kill. I decide maybe, and keep the poison pills.

The pack was fairly far from the Cornucopia, so that's all that's in it. I wonder how Katniss got the sleeping bag. Oh well.

I walk off to where Katniss was messing with the wire. Two snares. One has already caught a rabbit. Nice. I take it, telling myself that this is the Hunger Games. I try to reset it best I can.

I pad back and go up my tree. Katniss is still asleep. I shiver again and my teeth almost start chattering. I finally end up zipping up my jacket, pulling on the hood, putting my extra socks over my hands, and wrapping flexible branches around me. I manage to fall into a disturbed sleep, where montages of visions of death by hypothermia overtake my dreams.

Snap! Snap! Snap! Snap!

I blink awake, then realize that I have a death grip on my willow branches. I let go slowly and go higher up the tree. It's so cold now that I can feel the skin on my face cracking a little. Disgusting. I carefully shift to face the snapping.

A flash of red appears a little farther out. A fire? Is Katniss insane? She has a sleeping bag! I instantly revise my plan for an alliance.

But no, I see a little shifting in Katniss's tree. She's still there. It's another out of the thirteen competitors left. Three of us in this one spot. Funny.

But not funny, because fires are like flares. Worse, even. They say, "I'm either too wimpy to eat raw food, or I'm too wimpy to brave the cold. So come kill me and get me out of the way!"

Katniss makes a tiny noise, but holds back.

We both sit frozen for a few hours, watching the fire flicker and dance, waiting, waiting…

And then I hear it. Voices. Boys and girls. And the only large alliance that's probably formed is a Career alliance.

A scream, a cry for mercy. I feel horrible. I mean, seeing the District Four boy die was bad. But he was trying to kill me. As for her, I don't think she killed anyone. Maybe she's stupid, but she's innocent. One of the boys crows, "Twelve down and eleven to go!"

I know I'm going to throw up. Killing is not in my comfort zone. Death in general is not in my comfort zone. But I stay still.

There are a few more noises, some muttering, and then the same guy says, "Better clear out so they can get the body before it starts stinking."

They come toward us. I hold a breath, let it out slowly, quietly. I'm glad I'm high up.

"Shouldn't we have heard a cannon by now?"

"I'd say yes. Nothing to prevent them from going in immediately."

"Unless she isn't dead."

"She's dead. I stuck her myself."

"Then where's the cannon?"

"Someone should go back. Make sure the job's done."

I know why the cannon isn't firing. Two perfectly vulnerable girl tributes are locked, frozen, utterly still, in the trees on either side of the Careers. Getting one of us killed would guarantee two cannons. The girl is most likely already dead.

In the dim light, I see a head of blond hair glance up into Katniss's tree. He starts, taken aback, as the others begin arguing. Instantly, I know who it is. Peeta. Why is he with the Careers?

It doesn't quite shock me, though, considering he didn't sell Katniss out yet. His gaze sweeps up my tree and he sees me. I get ready to run, and run fast. But he just winks – it's hard to tell, considering how bruised he is – and says loudly, "We're wasting time! I'll go finish her and let's move on!"

Katniss shuffles, but the Careers don't hear her, thank goodness.

He can lie very well. I know that he's trying to direct attention away from us, and I'm tremendously grateful. But why?

He shoots one last look at Katniss's tree, then goes back with a knife.

The Careers instantly begin talking about killing him and insulting Katniss's dress. They're just jealous. Peeta comes back.

"Was she dead?"

Yes, she was, I think, but the Gamemakers want you to think she wasn't.

"No, but she is now. Ready to move on?"

Not just very well. He lies like a pro. Like a spy or something. He radiates conviction.

They run off as pink light washes over us. A hovercraft appears after a mockingjay makes a very strange, high-pitched call. Katniss whispers something and drops out of her tree. She goes to check on her snares and I feel guilty. But she comes back with something and cooks it over the embers of the dead tribute's fire. Then shoots off, away.

I skin the rabbit with my rock. Then I come out of the tree – risky, I know – and find that the embers still burn when I touch them. I start a small fire, very risky, but the Careers will just think the smoke is a remnant of the other girl's. I cook the rabbit and eat a small piece. I know I won't starve. Actually, right now, I have more food than I've ever had before. Meat!

I eat a nibble and savor the taste. Then I survey the clearing. Yes, I'll survive. This clearing is a gold mine. There are a few tiny pink-white flowers that signify wild onions, and the tops of all kinds of other roots. Maybe Katniss didn't spot this because she needed to get away from the Careers. But the Careers won't come back any time soon. I dig up the onions and other tubers and return to my willow.

Can I relax?

No. This is the Hunger Games. Kill or be killed.

After a day and a half of roosting in trees and only being spotted by Peeta after he saw Katniss, I'm starting to trust my ability to stay quiet and hidden. I start off in the general direction the Careers went in, leaping from tree to tree as silently as possible. Their loud, obnoxiously confident chatter easily leads me to them. They're happy to talk loudly because they know everybody's terrified of them.

I find them at a stream. When the doll-faced one says they should get back (I assume to the Cornucopia), they all chime in and agree.

"Come here, Lover Boy," District Two jeers. "Carry our packs for us."

"You're as useless as that Eleven girl, and you need at least twice as much food," says District Four.

I'm insulted.

Peeta rolls his eyes and takes their packs. I watch him closely. He has a knife strapped to his belt, but no pack of his own.

When they leave, I descend my tree, refill my water skin and run off in the direction they went. When night falls, they camp, and I stay far behind, freezing through another night in an oak.

I'll follow them to the Cornucopia. It may do well to know what they have up there.

The new day dawns, and they begin to move. I start off after them.