A/N To avoid confusion, I'm just letting you know now that the timeline jumps back a bit here. The first section happens before Layton's death, then the rest of the sections occur the following morning and onward. The last chapter was getting long, and the careers already had a section so I decided to just push this bit with them off into this chapter. Happy reading.


Eros Cunningham (D1), Autumn Mistveil (D1), Kegan Capiton (D2), Chateaux Masona (D2), Foster Finner (D4), and Kyla Brooke (D4)


Since Roan's demise earlier that evening, the career camp had been notably sluggish. The six of them had spent the remainder of the evening walking around camp and organizing and reorganizing their supplies. There were a few talks about forming another hunting party, but really Eros was the only one who was anxious to go kill more tributes. For the rest of them, Roan's death had been an awakening of sorts. Suddenly it was acutely clear to all of them that within the next two weeks at least five of them would be dead.

Eventually the sky had darkened and eyes had began to droop. As Foster had loudly announced, they were all tired. The only reason they didn't call it a night was because of the impending anthem. Not that they didn't already know whose faces would appear in the sky that night. It simply wasn't worth drifting off when the noisy Capitol anthem would be waking them up in just a few minutes.

"They should hurry up and let they rest of the arena know who we killed already," Foster complained. "I want to go to sleep."

"We all do, stop complaining," Chateaux snapped irritably. Foster hadn't stopped talking since dinner had ended and he was starting to get on her nerves. "Go play that game you like with brainiac over there and be patient."

Kegan shot his District partner an annoyed look. "I have a name," he mumbled as he pushed his glasses further up his nose. His eyes flashed dangerously as he sunk down further into the snowy ground.

"I gave up," Foster informed Chateaux. "He knows everything, quizzing him is boring."

"I don't know everything," Kegan snapped as if it were an insult. "You simply have a very small imagination with your questions."

"Stop bickering," Eros grumbled as he nibbled on an apple. He missed Flame from back home, and longed for some normal company. Chateaux was the only other career that Eros considered up to his social stature, but she was a girl. Usually he never hung out with anyone of the opposite gender for more than one night. After that, they tended to start getting needy.

Chateaux opened her mouth to respond to him, but suddenly the anthem started playing, drowning out her voice. The expected faces started showing up as the boys from Three and Six flashed up onto the screen. The third face to flash before them was quite shocking. Instead of a picture of the mischievous girl from Six, the girl from Seven's face showed up next.

All eyes fell on Kyla as confusion rippled through the brisk air. When the anthem finished, the six of them sat completely still. Eros was the first to move. He leaped to his feet, his mouth twisted into a ferocious snarl. Grabbing her by the collar, Eros lifted Kyla off the ground, holding his face dangerously close to hers.

"Care to explain?" he asked quietly, holding her gaze. A knife stuck readily out of his pocket as he prepared to butcher the girl alive. Eros had no patience for liars.

Kyla's eyes flashed with fear. She had been just as shocked when Terra's face showed up instead of Totem's. They had all seen her body. When nobody had claimed her as their kill, Kyla had just assumed somebody from the outer Districts had killed her. Nobody was going to get hurt by her lie, least of all herself. If she had known, she would have had an explanation prepared, or at least she would have been holding a weapon.

"I don't know," Kyla squeaked terrified. She was not ready to die.

"Eros slow down," Autumn's steady voice called urgently from the other side of the fire.

"Why should I?" Eros asked simply, his lip curling slightly. "We can't afford to have any liars in the alliance. That's how you get yourself killed. Anyway, I haven't killed anybody since that big oaf from Eleven earlier."

"Because she's telling the truth. Look at her face. She doesn't know why that girl's still alive. She thought she was dead too," Autumn shot back. "We've already lost one today. We need numbers so we can go hunting in several groups tomorrow."

Eros's resolve didn't slack in the slightest. Instead, he moved his hand to his knife. Nobody was going to interfere if he decided to slit Kyla's throat. His allies valued their lives too much to do that, or did they? Autumn stepped forwards, boldly putting a hand on his arm: a warning.

"Let her tell her half of the story first," Autumn said. The two tributes from One stared at each other for a minute, their eyes locked in a dangerous stare off. Autumn was having deja vu from the train ride, when the two of them had started testing each other's limits. Her mother had warned her then that she needed Eros as an ally, not an enemy, and she had reiterated the sentiment later throughout the week. Still, she couldn't have him murdering everyone in their alliance. She would be with in her rights if she killed him now.

Eros buckled to Autumn first though. His predator eyes flashed back over to Kyla, and he dropped her on the ground. "Talk," he commanded gruffly.

Kyla looked around at her alliance frantically. She felt like she was trapped with five hostiles, and she needed somebody to calm her down a bit. Foster became that person for her. He sat down beside his District partner sympathetically, slapping his hand onto her shoulder with an encouraging smile. "Come on Kyla. Just tell him that it's all a misunderstanding," he said nervously. She smiled gratefully at him, feeling immensely relieved.

"Th- that's all it is," she stuttered out, avoiding Foster's gaze. "I thought I killed her." The lie exited her mouth before she had a chance to stop it. She knew that if Eros ever found out that she never even moved off her pedestal in the first place, he'd slaughter her brutally. Somehow though, her instincts told her that playing dumb was the safest course for her at the moment.

"What did you do exactly," Eros narrowed his eyes. He didn't believe her act for a second. She was a career after all. One of the first things they were taught was how to tell a dead enemy from a live one.

"I... I hit her in the temple with the end of my javelin. It should have killed her. At the very least she has a bad concussion right now," Kyla said, making an effort to sound cold and calculating. She had to get home to her family, and if a little acting is what it would take, she'd make the sacrifice willingly.

"You didn't stab her or anything for good measure?" Chateaux interjected, her voice sounding bored.

Kyla blushed. "I don't like to hurt them any more than necessary," she mumbled back.

Autumn smiled, feeling relieved. "See, she didn't lie or betray us. Obviously the girl from Six is just tough," she said to Eros.

The boy frowned for a moment as he watched Kyla. Then, as if the wind had suddenly changed directions, his mouth twisted into an unexpected cruel grin. "Alright then, fine. It was just a misunderstanding or whatever. But this does change things. You're the only one who doesn't have any kills- You've got dibs on the first tribute you see. Understand?" he asked, his eyes twinkling. Kyla felt her heart skip a beat.

"Sure whatever," she mumbled back.

A few moments of silence passed. "You know," Chateaux grinned slyly. "She's not the only one with no kills. Right Kegan?"

"Shut up," Kegan growled.

And with that, Foster started laughing, then Eros, then Autumn. Soon everyone except the embarrassed boy from Two filled the air with the sound of their musical laughter. For the moment, the tension had passed.


Belle Mechan (D3) and Velt Ganger (D9)


Belle's eyes fluttered open as a ray of sun passed over her face. The world around her had changed overnight. The clouds above had vanished and now the ground seemed to glow a picturesque pure white. She let out a quick shocked breath, watching in wonder as a crisp fog escaped from her mouth. Distracted by this new wonder, she let out another breath and the strange steam appeared again. She grinned, absolutely delighted.

To top things off, she didn't feel all that cold. At some point overnight, the fire had gone out, but it seemed that it didn't matter. Velt was wedged beside her, and the two had both burrowed down into the snow the way dogs did when it was cold outside. At the moment her head was resting on Velt's shoulder as the two had curled up into two intertwining balls. Some people might have scrambled away, embarrassed, but not Belle. She was warm pressed up against Velt, and she saw no need to venture out into the cold again.

"Velt," Belle whispered, poking him in the cheek. Velt gave out a slight moan as his pale face shook to life. He lifted his head, shaking off a layer of snowy dust out of his hair. Now Velt on the other hand, was not so bold as Belle. When he saw how close the two were underneath the snow, his face lit up bright red, and he practically leaped to his feet.

Belle laughed at him as his face twisted into a decided frown. "Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you," Belle giggled. Velt blushed again.

"I'm not scared," Velt mumbled quietly as he brushed himself off. He could imagine his older brother, Nole, in his mind's eye, laughing in his good natured way at Velt's awkwardness.

"Mmmhmm," Belle smiled amused. "Come on, let's have breakfast."

The two sat down around their burnt out fire pit, picking through some of their supplies. They made an executive decision to each eat one cracker and each of them took a few swigs from the two water canteens. As they didn't have anything substantial to eat, Belle began to construct a snare while Velt began to build up the fire again. Belle talked him through each step, teaching him how to build a fire without the matches he so heavily relied on.

Soon the two were well set for the day. The fire was roaring warming them to the core as they each worked. Belle built at least seven traps by the time the sun reached noon in the sky. The two spent another half an hour setting them around their camp before returning to their fire, relatively tired.

Of course, the two were relatively young. Any weariness that they were experiencing was almost lost in their excited frames. Belle sat by the fire, warming up for a moment before saying. "Hey Velt, you want to play a game?" she asked excitedly.

Velt smiled. He rarely got to play around with the other kids back at home. He was too shy to go up and ask to join their fun. "Sure," he said, his voice quite eager.

"Tag, you're it," Belle cried giving him a light tap on the arm. She sprinted off into the woods, and Velt hurried after her, a huge grin stretching ear to ear.


Raven Textan (D8), Lena Reyna (D8), and Roland Bucks (D10)


The three walked up the slope, leaving the forest behind them. They were all silent, as nobody had much to say. Layton's death had hit all of them hard. They had all assumed they were safe, that all four of them had survived the first day. Nobody was ready when Totem had attacked. Lena wasn't paying enough attention to their surroundings, and the boys had been sleeping. When Raven and Roland woke up to find Layton bleeding from the chest, they had both sprung into action.

They bolted after Totem, with every intention of ending her. It was Raven who had called off the chase. Roland had been running full speed after the girl, forming a lasso with the rope as he ran (he had been sleeping with it strung around him), and just as he was ready to pull her down with it, Raven screamed at him to stop. The boy from Eight saw the sickle in Totem's hands, he knew that Lena was still back at the camp alone and vulnerable, and secretly, he doubted his allies ability to finish the job. Even if they had tripped her, somebody would have to finish the job afterwards. He knew Roland would hesitate, and to be honest, he hadn't been completely positive about himself. And against a girl like Totem, hesitation could mean death.

It was safer just to let her go.

After the action was over though, all that was left for them to do was grieve.

They returned to their little nook between the two trees, and Raven boldly decided that it would be safe to spend the rest of the night there. Now that the sun was well up they had to move on. Knowing that Totem was probably still lurking somewhere in the forest, they moved to go to the mountain.

They had been walking now for several hours. The trees had began thinning significantly, and nothing but craggy snow-capped boulders surrounded them. They were on the opposite side of mountain than the Cornucopia, and so no matter how hard they looked at the forest scenery below, there was no sign of the other tributes. Finally around lunch time, Raven stopped.

"I think we've earned a break," he announced.

"We didn't schedule for a break," Roland responded immediately, the vein popping out of his forehead slightly.

Raven smiled amiably. "No, but we scheduled for lunch time. Call this lunch, then we can just keep walking later," he replied. That put Roland at ease at once, which was quite impressive. At home usually Mathew was the only one who would be able to convince him to tweak the schedule that fast.

"Alright," he said, leaning back against a rock, his rope in hand.

"It would be nice if we actually had lunch," Lena sighed. The berries they had been feasting on didn't seem to grow so high up. It appeared that they were going to need to find another food source.

"I might be able to catch something with my rope if there was anything to catch," Roland mumbled thoughtfully looking around. The ground was smooth though. There was no sign of animal life in close proximity to them.

"It's just been one day right I guess," Lena said. "I think I've gone four days before without eating. It's not that bad, I guess."

Raven and Roland stared at her wide-eyed. She expected that much from Raven. His father had buckets of money in his back pocket. Raven probably didn't even know what reek hunger was. She was a little surprised that Roland had never starved for so long. District Ten was supposed to be even more dirt poor than Eight. Roland though, came from one of the few families that still owned their own farm, therefore he had never gone hungry.

Just as Roland was about to open his mouth to respond, a beeping noise echoed through the air, making all three of them jump. Spinning around, Raven grinned as he saw the little metal canister attached to a parachute floating down to them. He reached out, catching it in the air.

"Looks like we'll be eating after all," he said as he opened the top of the canister open. Inside was a thick steaming pot of soup that had chunks of vegetables and beef floating in it. Raven quickly grabbed the note that was hanging from it, unfolding the paper to read it out loud. "You're popular, don't screw it up," he smiled as he read. "It says it's from 'L' That must be Lea."

Roland grinned. "Gee, thanks to your mentor then," he said as the three of the sat down in the snow, all ready to eat.

Raven frowned though as he looked at the soup. "Hey Lea. You know soup is really nice, and we want to thank whoever sent it to us. Is there any way you could get us some gloves though," he asked as he sent a wistful glance at his hands. "We can't keep them out of our pockets for more than a few minutes at a time without worrying about frostbite."

"Don't be too pushy," Lena said, blushing slightly. She didn't like the idea of asking the Capitolites for too much. She came from a family where if you wanted something you had to work for it. It felt wrong to just ask for something and to have it magically appear out of the sky. Nevertheless, when the second parachute started floating down from the sky, she couldn't help but feel her heart leap with joy. This time, she was the one to reach out and grab the silver container from the air. Inside were three pairs of heavy black gloves with another note. "You're on your own for a little while now," she read aloud. This one was again signed from Lean, but she didn't mind. She figured anything sent to Raven was also equally meant for her.

She slipped two gloves onto her freezing hands, sighing as she flexed her fingers. Then she handed the remaining two sets of gloves to Roland and Raven. The two boys eagerly pulled on the gloves with smiles. Then Raven held up the soup sipping it out of the container, as they had no spoons.

"Lunch is served," he said, passing it onto Roland.


Lindon Lizar (D7)


Lindon woke up shivering, surrounded by stained red snow. Immediately, a strong scowl penetrated his features as he moaned. He must have wandered around aimlessly looking for something to brutally kill for hours last night. Then at some point, he had collapsed because he was beginning to feel light-headed. The two holes in his arm didn't bleed as much as he might have expected them to because of some odd property to their venom, but they still bled. Moving his arm now, he found that the entire limb ached. The fabric of his jacket had become stiff, and he could feel the cold air numbing the exposed skin around the two puncture wounds.

The venom that had momentarily turned Lindon into a lunatic had worn off, but for some reason, Lindon still felt some sort of change within himself. The longing to spill blood had begun before he had been bitten, and it hadn't gone away. The only difference between the boy who had beaten a mutt against the tree, and the boy currently scowling in the snow was that the present one had some level of wits about him, making him that much more dangerous.

Grumbling to himself, Lindon pulled himself to his feet, and began to walk away from the scarlet snow. He was vaguely aware of the hunger pangs he was experiencing in his stomach as he walked. Judging by the sky, it was a little past noon now. He hadn't eaten anything since breakfast yesterday morning. It would be nice to have something to nibble on. The hunger was a secondary matter though. Finding a good fight was now paramount in his mind.

Walking through the trees, Lindon suddenly caught a strong whiff of smoke on the wind. Somebody had a fire brewing. He grinned sadistically as he swayed towards the smell. As he got closer, it got stronger, and through the trees, he could see a light grey cloud billowing upwards. Soon footprints appeared on the ground, scattering in all different directions. The prints were small, obviously a young light tribute had made them. Furthermore, there seemed to be two different treads of them. Lindon smiled at his luck. Two kills that meant.

Suddenly he heard a branch snap loudly to his left, and he whipped around, spreading both hands out, ready to clamp them around somebody's neck. Nobody was there though. He relaxed slightly, shooting an annoyed glance at the wounds in his arm as they stung, rejecting the sudden motion. Slowly, he lumbered towards the sound, trying to be stealthy.

A trap lay on the ground, a white rabbit skewered within its grasp. Lindon walked over to the trap curiously, fascinated by the blood that seeped out of the rabbit's torso. The trap was relatively simple- just a wooden structure with a sharpened stick on one end. The rabbit had walked into it, taking the bait of a small shred of dried jerky that was laying on the trigger. When it had touched it, the trap sprung, the sharpened stick cutting easily through the animal's flesh. Lindon reached down, picking up the piece of jerky off the ground. Some of the rabbit's blood had dropped onto the meat, but Lindon hardly cared. He popped it into his mouth without a second thought.

Then he debated on what to do with the rabbit. He could hardly hold it and murder two small tributes at the same time. Luckily though, it was small. He carefully removed the sharp stick out of its flesh, and shoved the dead thing into the deep pocket of his jacket, then zipped it in there, smearing blood all over himself as he did so. There, he thought. Now he could cook it in the soon-to-be-dead-tributes' fire once he had finished with him.

Finally he examined the stick that had killed the rabbit. It was about as short as a knife, and a tad blunter. Clearly it had been sharpened with some kind of tool, probably a dagger. Obviously, there were better weapons to be had, but Lindon didn't have many options. He could, of course, just strangle the two kids with his hands like he had done with Terra. That hadn't been so bad.

Still, something about the stick called to him. Idly he wondered how bad it would hurt, to be stabbed with a stick. Finally. he picked it up, figuring that just because he had it didn't mean he'd be forced to use it.

Lindon stood up, armed with the stick, and with the dead rabbit in his pocket, ready for action. He prowled forwards, moving closer and closer to the fire. just as he was about to reach a clearing where the two tributes' camp was undoubtably located, he heard a human squeal from behind him, quickly followed by a burst of delighted laughter.

"No fair. That's cheating," a high-pitched musical voice giggled.

Lindon felt his heart beat pick up as he turned, drawn to the sound. He moved slowly, trying to make sure the crunching of the snow under his boots didn't sound too loudly. Then he saw them, through the trees. The skinny boy from Nine was sitting on a high branch, grinning down as the girl from Three crossed her arms at him.

"You said all rules go when you pushed me for that head start," the boy argued happily.

The girl puckered her lips. "But that was different. You could have still gotten me then," she said.

"It's like base. Do you play with bases in Three? I think we do back at home," the boy offered, his brows furrowing.

Lindon had heard enough. Without regard for the boy in the tree, he lunged forwards, tackling the girl before she even realized what was happening. The sound of her scream echoed through the woods as Lindon pulled out the bloodied pointy stick. Yes, he was happy he had taken it. Raising it into the air, he plunged the stick downwards, aiming for the girl's eye. He fancied he was being merciful as it plunged into her socket, killing her almost instantly.

Boom, the cannon sounded.

He wasn't quite done with her yet. Even if she was dead, he wanted to see more blood. With a good pull, he tried to dislodge the stick from her eye, but it rejected the movement, snapping in her body.

Lindon let out a frustrated growl as he tried to dig the sharp end out, getting flesh under his finger nails. Unfortunately, it was in too deep. Then above him, he heard a frightened squeal.

Velt watched the entire scene unfold in utter horror. When Lindon first tackled Belle, he wanted nothing more than to climb down and save her. Their knife was in his pocket. Belle was unprepared and weaponless against the bigger fifteen year old boy. Somehow he couldn't move though. He watched Lindon lift that stick, and he saw his father, with a belt in his hand. Immediately he was overcome by horrible shaking tremors.

"Belle," he cried out as he watched her die. Then the horrible boy began to go back for the stick, digging his fingers into Velt's friend. Tears stung Velt's face and he whimpered to himself.

Lindon heard him though.

Velt felt his stomach twist as the crazy tribute turned to face him, a twisted grin cutting across his face. The boy's brown eyes looked up excitedly at Velt. Instinctively, Velt climbed up higher in the tree, putting more distance between him and the enemy. Tears poured freely down his face as he went upwards. He had come to terms with his death on the train ride, but this wasn't how he wanted to go out. He wanted it to be painless, maybe even brave. If Lindon killed him, he had no doubt it would be unbearably painful.

"Aw, come down," Lindon called up. "I'm not going to hurt you."

He might have sounded genuine if the comment wasn't followed by a maniacal laugh. Velt continued to climb, until he found a nice nook in between two branches where he could hide.

Lindon let out an almost inhuman squealing sound as he started to climb after Velt, but the boy from Seven wasn't made for climbing. At home, Lindon was possibly the most out of shape boy in the entire District. He always had his "friends" do everything for him. He had never climbed a tree before, and to top things off, his arm protested loudly to this newfound torture. He couldn't even make it up to the third branch before he fell back down to the ground. Fortunately for him, the snow was an excellent cushion for his fall.

Groaning, Lindon looked hatefully up at Velt. "Come down," he demanded angrily. Velt hid his face behind one of the branches and squeezed his eyes shut. The boy desperately wanted to have one of his sibling's arms around him, telling him it would be okay. They weren't there though. He was utterly alone now.

"Come down," Lindon screeched a second time, kicking the tree pitifully. Anger etched into his face. He wasn't used to being disobeyed. "Come down or... or I'll kill you."

Of course, that was a truly pitiful threat, as he would definitely be murdering the boy if he did follow instructions. With a livid snarl Lindon shrieked at the boy, but even he knew when things were a lost cause. Velt was too high for him to reach.

"I'll get you later," Lindon sneered. Then he stormed away, wandering off to go find some way to cook the dead rabbit that was still in his pocket.

Meanwhile Velt curled into the fetal position on his branch, putting his head beteen his knees as he tried not to choke on his own sobs.


A/N: RIP Belle, she was the first tribute submitted to my story and I would have loved to have seen her go farther. I had a few mode cute Velt/Belle moments that I had planned to write. Unfortunately, this was where her death worked into my plot.

If you'll notice updates are slowing down a bit now. School is back in high gear and I pretty much need to finish out the year with as close to straight As as I can get. They should be coming about once a week now, maybe more often if I can.

Until next time