Author's Note: If you don't know what a halberd is, I suggest you look it up. :3

This chapter's Recommended Listening: Rock You Like a Hurricane by The Scorpions

Gil Prus, District 10

I am gonna be so cool tonight. The Careers—split up across the arena this year—are out looking for tributes. And one unlucky sucker is going to find me. And I'm taking him down. I've got my knife, a relatively full stomach thanks to the rabbit I owned earlier, and, of course, my awesome self. And no stupid Career can compete with that.

So, to make sure some overconfident sap finds me, I've decided to ditch shelter and show myself clearly on the side of the mountain.

Although it took some time—dumb Careers are slow to find me—my strategy works, sending the girl from 2 my way.

Grinning, I hide my knife behind my back—no need for her to figure out her death by awesome just yet—and wait for her to get close.

"You're not very good at hiding," she comments.

"Ha! Like I was trying to hide!"

Corianne raises an eyebrow, but doesn't make a move to attack. Now's my chance—one slash to a vital region, and this battle's over!

I whip my knife around from behind my back, aiming for her torso, but my weapon stops with a clang.

"Well," Corianne starts, one corner of her mouth twisting into a grin, "guess you're not going to sit down and die quietly, huh?" I withdraw my knife from the handle of her halberd—I made a dent in the wood, but that obviously wasn't what I was aiming for—and she hefts the axe-like weapon back over her shoulder. "Oh, well. Just means you'll die slower."

I can't help but laugh at her ridiculous idea. "I'm going to die? I'm going to die? Oh, no. That's not going to happen. Because—" I tilt my knife, which glints in the moonlight—"you're the one who's going to die. Right. Now!"

Corianne File, District 2

This Gil guy's some kind of idiot, I decide, when he declares he's going to kill me. Yeah, sure, kid. Who has the better weapon here? Who has at least ten years more experience in killing?

In case you weren't sure, the answer is me.

As if I didn't already think he was dumb enough, he takes another swipe at me, aiming at the exact same place. Yeah. Idiot. I block him easily.

He pulls back, and I do as well, readying my weapon for an attack of my own. He comes forward first, but his knife's reach is far too short, and I get the first hit—a nice slice into his shoulder.

To my surprise, he hardly flinches—but his reflex is still enough to keep him from getting that puny knife of his anywhere important.

I rip the halberd out of him and spin it around for another shot, but I end up having to pause in order to block him with the handle.

Really, kid? You didn't get me the first time, you didn't get me the second time, and you're trying the exact same move again?

Yeah. Real genius.

I withdraw the handle—it comes back to me a little easier than before, almost like he didn't dig his knife into it this time, and—

Wait.

I look back quickly, and, sure enough, the hand he'd struck me with doesn't hold his knife anymore.

And suddenly, his blade is ripping through my side. I can't stifle the immediate yelp of pain, but I manage to get in a hit of my own, and he stops his attack. Cursing and stepping back, Gil grips his shoulder, coating his hand in blood, but his expression clearly shows he doesn't mind. As if he's actually enjoying the Hunger Games.

Well. Guess that makes two of us.

Gil Prus, District 10

I have to admit it, this chick's pretty good. After all, she did get two good hits to my shoulder, dealing enough pain that I can barely hang on to my knife.

But I can hang on. So this girl's still gonna be the one who dies.

I end up switching hands—yeah, I could hang on with my injured side, but that's not my dominant hand, anyway—and go for a stab at her heart while she's trying to quit freaking out about her wound.

All I end up stabbing is a lock of hair when she dodges and slashes her own weapon at me. I dodge, too—'cause I'm fricking awesome like that—and twist around, using the momentum to drive my knife hard into her side.

Okay, it's not a vital region, but it's still enough to make her flinch, so I lurch forward again, swiping my knife in a wide arc toward her neck...

...And my weapon slips right out of my blood-covered hand.

Corianne dodges the wayward strike easily, and swings her halberd around, getting a score across my stomach before I can pull back.

Her weapon's heavy enough to keep her from swiping it around again, so I take the pause to sprint after my knife, which has slid a few metres down the mountain. I follow the splattery trail of blood until I get to the weapon, snatching it up hurriedly.

I just start to spin back around towards my opponent—

"Too slow!" she shouts maniacally, whipping the halberd toward my chest. I jump to the side, getting a slice through my jacket but nothing more.

"No, you're too slow!" I retort with a grin, slashing my knife across the side of her neck in midair.

I land roughly, tumbling over a few rocks, one digging into my shoulder wound, before I finally roll to a stop.

I barely manage to sit up when I hear the cannon boom.

"Ha!" I laugh, seeing the hovercraft descend by Corianne's body. "No one wins against Gil Prus!" I shout victoriously before blacking out.

Alf Meric, District 1

Something's poking me in the side, and I grumble. Come on, can't a guy get a decent amount of sleep around here? I roll over, and the poking stops. Finally.

"Wake up!" Someone kicks me hard in the stomach, sending me tumbling for a good metre.

"Fine, fine," I half-grumble half-cough, sitting up. I rub my eyes open before I realise my glasses came off. "Where're my glasses?"

"Find them yourself," my attacker grunts. I can't really make out who he is, since I'm pretty blind without my spectacles, but the gruff voice is definitely Lude's.

Grumbling, I crawl across the grass, feeling around for my glasses, until I finally find them. I wipe them on my shirt and put them on. "So, what exactly was so important I had to wake up?"

"We're in the middle of a hunt!" Lude growls. "I agreed it was a good idea to leave you to watch camp, not leave you to get your beauty sleep. What if someone had come by while you were getting your shut-eye? They could have taken all our food and medical supplies—they could have even killed you!"

"Aw, relax, dude," I scoff. "That didn't happen, so what's the harm?"

Lude narrows his eyes, but it's obvious I've won this argument; he doesn't retort with anything else.

" 'Swhat I thought." I stand up and stretch, mouth gaping open in a yawn. "But now that I'm up, I'm hungry. What else do we have to eat?"

"Well, considering you've already eaten five day's worth in the first day, not much!"

"Aw, quit being such a sourpuss. We've got sponsors, you know."

"There aren't enough people in the entire Capitol to feed you in the Games!"

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Tell you what," I say, slapping a hand on his shoulder, "I'll go out and hunt, and you can make sure that... whoever doesn't mess with our crap. Okay? Okay."

I walk away nonchalantly, but I can still feel his glare.