Sorry for the wait for this chapter, it took a while to write, plus I've had tons of homework on top of studying for my driver's test next Friday :) Yep, as of yesterday I am now officially 16, old enough to drive! So reviews would be very awesome, like a belated brithday present :D

I also have another question to ask you guys, another reason to review as you can put your answers there :) So as I've said before, this is my first Hunger Games story to get to the Games, and I wasn't quite sure how much gore and injuries and blood and all that is acceptable or wanted by the readers. So is Rowan's gross hand thing the worst you want to read? Was it too much? Are you find with having more injuries of that magnitude? I have actually begun to make a very rough outline of this story (nothing set in stone obviously, the poll results change and help me decide who dies when, I haven't officially decided now) but I do have some plans that may involve gruesome wounds like what Rowan got and potentially slightly worse. So is that alright, or do you want nothing to do with that sort of thing? Let me know :)

As always, hope you enjoy and don't forget to vote on the poll!


Rhine Carson, District 2 Female

You want to know how annoyed I feel right now? Well, picture trying to find a needle in a haystack. At night. When you can't see a freaking thing.

Where are those glowing mutts when you need them, I think viciously as I nearly walk into yet another low hanging tree branch. Honestly, they're spread out all through the forest, giving away the location of any tributes trying to be sneaky (i.e. us Careers) but in this one spot none are present. Of course.

"You know, a little light would be nice," I say, placing my hands on my hips and staring upwards, where I'm sure hundreds of cameras are zooming in on me right now. "Your jobs are to keep us alive, aren't they?"

Well, either my sister and our other mentors aren't listening, or they're just being incredibly stubborn, because no illuminating device comes floating down attached to a silver parachute. Mind you, if it did, I'd barely be able to see it. Maybe Lura's still angry about the last night before the Games. But she's not one to hold grudges; the necklace says as much. Unconsciously, my fingers wrap around the golden chain, barely visible over top of my shirt. I've kept it hidden under my clothes, knowing that it would most likely be a subject of ridicule from the other Careers, but, as much as I don't want to admit it, it does reassure me. Somewhat.

I trudge around the trees for another minute, still in the dark and having no idea where my weapon is, and it seems as though my sister won't be helping me. Helping me . . . I stop short as the thought enters my mind. Was I really just asking her for help? No, help is for losers. It's my golden rule, one of the laws I've always lived by. But in the arena, are the rules different? Lots of people change when they come into the Games; goodness knows Lura certainly transformed from a sweet little girl to a trained killer. But that's just because regular her wasn't strong enough to succeed in here; I, on the other hand, am perfectly capable.

Then again, it's getting pretty annoying stumbling around in the dark. And sponsors are a big part of the Games. My head begins to hurt as the two thoughts collide, one a rule I have lived by my entire life, and the second one that might be the key to my survival. I know I must have sponsors – I'd never admit it to anyone but Lura probably did me more good in the interviews than I ever could have done for myself – so why am I not being sent anything? Because Lura knows I never accept help and doesn't want to waste a gift? No, I think it's more than that; she's waiting for me to come to the realisation that I do need help. My sister's eviller than I thought.

"Fine," I say out loud, voicing my thoughts. "Could you send a light? I . . . could use the help," I nearly spit the last part out, gritting my teeth at the things I'm being forced to say. Oh, how the people back in District 2 must be laughing now. The dark is actually good for one thing after all; it helps to hide the humiliated blush creeping up my cheeks.

But sure enough, I feel more than see the silver parachute as the material brushes across my face during its descent and I reach out a hand to catch it. It's a small black device – a flashlight – and as I click the button on a small beam of light illuminates the forest floor in front of me. I sigh in relief at this wonderful new ability to see, but before I continue searching something stops me. A feeling that there's something more Lura wants. I close my eyes, wondering briefly if I can get away without saying it, but I know that I can't. The image of my sister pops into my mind, looking at me with an eyebrow raised as though she's waiting for something. So I take a deep breath and choke out, "Thanks." There, she'd better be satisfied now, because I will never be saying that again. My usual stubbornness and attitude flows back to me and I add, "You've got a nastier side, don't you, Lura?" The usual emotions flood me – annoyance, irritation and such – but there's something else present too. Almost like . . . pride. Maybe my sister isn't quite a lost cause after all, now that she's finally shown me some evidence that she can shed her kind exterior and show her true personality of enjoying putting people in humiliating situations. We're more like each other than I thought.

Yeah right, I think to myself, smirking as I scan the ground for my sword. The arena may have different rules, but one thing stays the same. And that's how different Lura and I are.

With the help of the light, finding my sword is no problem and soon the familiar hilt is back in my right hand, fingers dancing over the smooth metal. I smile, the weapon reassuring me more than the necklace ever could. Now, I can fight and defend myself once more. It's only then that I realise how odd the situation is.

"Where's the cannon?" I mutter out loud. I left Cordelia with that District 5 girl, Bree, a while ago, she must have killed her by now. But try as I might, I can't remember a cannon ever going off. So what happened? Bree overpowered her? No, that can't be it, she was decidedly not in a fit state to try and fight. Most likely Cordelia's just chatting with her, finally having a captive audience to listen to her prattle on.

Cursing my luck and getting the most annoying Career for my hunting partner, I slash my way back through the trees to where I left my ally, expecting to find her sitting down and having "girl talk" with our supposed-to-be victim. However, the scene that greets my eyes is quite different.

Though I was gone for a good ten minutes, my first thought is that neither tribute has moved an inch in my absence. Bree is still staring up at Cordelia, waiting for her to make her move while the young Career is completely frozen, her bow still loaded and aiming at the other tribute's head. Her green eyes are wider than I've ever seen them, her face pale as she continues to meet Bree's gaze, and I can see by the vibrating weapon that her hands are shaking. What's wrong with her?

"Cordelia?" I ask, my voice lacking its usual harsh tone, replaced by bewildered confusion.

My words seem to startle her and she jumps, her hands releasing the bow and letting the arrow fly through the air with a piercing whistle before it lands with a thunk in the ground next to Bree. The District 5 tribute doesn't even flinch, but she does stare uncomprehendingly from the weapon to Cordelia and back again. My gaze, however, is completely fixated on Cordelia, who's still trembling, seemingly frozen with indecision. Then I realise; she doesn't have it in her to kill a tribute.

My attitude comes back and I groan theatrically; why must my allies be so soft? Well, I can bet that Meredith isn't going to be happy with her. I place my sword in my belt and put my hands on my hips. "Honestly Cordelia? I mean, I knew you were borderline useless, but this? You're hopeless. And dead." Yes, this may sound harsh to some, but I'm just saying it like it is. In the arena it's kill or be killed; unfortunately, my ally seems to have disregarded the former and, by default, chosen the latter.

However, she doesn't even rise to the bait, still staring at Bree, her eyes whirling with a mess of emotions, leading me to believe that she's having some sort of internal conflict with herself. Well, that's all fine and dandy, but I couldn't care less and I don't think anybody else would either. I sigh dramatically once more and my hand goes to the hilt of my sword. "Well, if you're really that pathetic, I'll take care of it. And I may have to take care of you too." Really, it'd be mercy. Who knows what Meredith would do if she heard?

Unfortunately, I got too distracted heckling Cordelia to pay attention to Bree, who secretly was wrenching the arrow beside her out of the ground to use as a weapon. Before I could even draw my sword, she leaped at me, despite her injuries, and used the last remains of her strength to slice the arrow across my leg. I let out a small noise of surprise and stumble back, unprepared for that sort of attack as blood begins to drip down my leg and seep into the fabric of my pants. It was deep, that's for sure, nearly to the bone and I quickly fumble for my sword but she seems to be quicker despite her injuries and raises the arrow to stab me again.

There's an elastic, twanging sound of a bow and then a whistling as a small projectile flies through the air and Bree's head snaps around, her momentum of her leap nearly lifting her off of the ground before she falls back onto it with a crashing finality. The blood from her leg's injury is pooled beneath her, and a small trickle nearly reaches the small puddle as the crimson liquid drips from her head, where the shaft of an arrow is seen entering deep into her skull. For a second all I can do is stare and then slowly I turn to see Cordelia, her hands raised with her bow as if she might have to attack again. But a cannon booms throughout the arena, carrying with it the message that Bree Hudson, District 5's female tribute, is dead.

For a minute the two of us just stay there, frozen, my eyes locked on Cordelia while hers never waver from the sight of the dead tribute. Then slowly, her she lowers her arms, which no longer shake despite the fact that she's still as pale as ever. But when she turns to me, it's her eyes that shock me the most. They look . . . dead. Not like Rowan's eyes, which are still alight with anger and violence, or even Meredith's, whose icy blue eyes are vacant of all emotion, much like that of a machine. No, Cordelia's just seem empty, hollow almost. You can see hints of emotions in them, but it's like watching through a veil, a curtain of barrenness descending over them so that the bearer of those eyes doesn't have to feel all of the emotions bubbling up inside of them. "One more down," she says, her tone matching her eyes, lacking any emotion though I could detect cracks in her voice, of sadness and fear. But I don't say anything, no comebacks or insults or anything. For the first time in my life, I'm speechless; the sight of my ally, so annoyingly cheerful and chatty not even half an hour ago like this, well, it's unsettling, even for me.

Cordelia turns and without hesitating marches back through the forest, leaving me with the dead body of her victim for a few moments before I get up and follow her, my mind whirring with thoughts but never once do I say them aloud. Because really, there's nothing I can say.


Meredith Blade, District 4 Female

My head shoots upwards as I hear the cannon's boom throughout the arena. So, someone's been killed. Of course, most people won't be able to find out who it was until tomorrow, but I have a hunch we'll know sooner, since there's almost a 100% chance that the killer was one of our allies.

I glance over at Perrin to see his reaction, but he seems impassive, if not slightly surprised. What he should be is worried, I think to myself, smirking slightly. It must have been one of our allies and neither Code, Janaff or Cordelia had a kill after the bloodbath. Unless Rhine was responsible for this one, they've now gained some respect. Or rather, lost some of my disproval; I've never found another person good enough for me to respect.

I'd been hoping that I might have been able to have some sort of esteem for Perrin, and he for me, although it became clear after a while that that would not be the case. To me, he's a weak link, and I'm sure to him I seem like all sorts of things. Normally, I'd make it my personal job to eliminate anything that might drag us Careers down; but with Perrin, I don't have that urge, at least, not yet. For reasons I can't guess at, part of me is hoping that I'll still be able to get him on my side, turn him into a true, merciless Career. Unfortunately, to do that we'd need to find him some tributes to kill, which this part of the arena seems to be severely lacking at this point.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," I say softly, smiling into the dark forest. Immediately after spotting the little floating lights I realised that they were a threat – decoy mutts, meant to entrance tributes with their "pretty" exterior before lunging and attacking you. Luckily I brought along a nice supply of throwing daggers, and those little fairy things were skewered to trees before they could even take notice of us. Besides, we need the cover of darkness to work anyways.

Perrin and I continue to move quietly through the forest, but we still have yet to find any signs of tributes. I pull out another dagger as we near one more of the floating lights, ready to end its life as quickly as I murdered the others, but Perrin places a hand on my shoulder and stops me. On the ground, right in front of us, is a small puddle of blood.

I slide the dagger back into my belt and nod; seems like having a little extra light is useful after all. Soon enough, we find more splashes of blood and begin to follow the trail to where an unsuspecting tribute lies in wait, about to become our newest victim.

My pace quickens as the blood puddles grow more and more numerous – I pay little attention to where we're going, only caring that there's an injured child up ahead. And easy kill. Perrin keeps up the pace, jogging slightly behind me until we emerge into a small clearing so unlike what we've seen of the forest so far.

In the middle of the space is a giant tree. Not just giant; humongous, wider than all seven of the Careers if we stood in a line, with large, sweeping branches and hanging foliage, creating almost a canopy overhead. Perrin and I glance at each other before I point to the left of the tree and he nods; we split around the base, each of us taking a side as we search for the injured tribute. The trail of blood seemed to have vanished, but in a moment I pick it up again, watching the small droplets of scarlet that dot the ground, getting closer and closer to the tree. I smile and adjust the grip of the axe blade in my hand; kill number three for Meredith.

The blood seems to lead to nearer to the tree and as I approach I begin to see an opening at the base of the trunk, like some sort of rabbit hole, only larger. My grin widens; so that's where you are.

What happens next is so fast that my mind can barely even process it. I'm about five feet away from the hole when I realise that it was somewhat lopsided, as if someone had stepped too close and the ground had caved out from under them. I stop immediately as the thought enters my head, but it's too late; I was too focused on the trail of blood and the excitement of taking one more tribute out that I didn't pay attention to how close to the hole I'd gotten or the subtle sounds telling me that there's someone sneaking up from behind.

I begin to whirl around but whoever it is is already upon me and a powerful kick slams into my side and sends me careening over the edge. Not wanting to miss an opportunity, I throw my knife, but it misses the District 10 boy by a mile and he takes off running back through the forest, though not before a slight smile plays on his lips. Of course, he'd be out for revenge; I did kill his district partner after all. I was under the impression that I was doing him a favour; having a little fourteen year-old hang around like that would drive anyone insane. But as usual, I seem to have missed some sort of key detail in their relationship that made them so valuable to each other. The thought that I overlooked something annoys me and my brain resolves to figure out what I missed; after all, the ultimate tribute, the perfect Career leader can't skip over something like that. But right now, I think I've have bigger issues.

My hands whip out wildly as I blindly try to find something to cling onto; dirt is falling into the hole as more of its surface collapses, which isn't making my attempt at saving myself any easier. If the edges keep crashing inwards, I won't have anything to grab a hold of. Hundreds of scenarios and ways to stop my descent come to mind, but none of them seem to work and for the first time a small part of me actually considers that this might be my downfall, both literally and figuratively. Is it really going to end for me like this?


Perrin Bellerose, District 4 Male

As soon as Meredith is out of my line of sight, I allow myself a small moment to rest against the side of the trunk. Not so much for my body's benefit; more for my mind. I need time to think about everything that's happened.

So, first things first, the bloodbath. I didn't manage to kill anyone. Hell, I barely even managed to wound Achilles. What does that say for me as a leader? I need to step up and get a kill down, or else the Careers won't be wanting to keep me around much longer. I'm sure Meredith's already thinking of ways to get rid of me.

Then I need to find this tribute before she does; my grip tightens on the trident, the same one I'd fought Achilles with – I'd managed to pull it out after the bloodbath ended – but as soon as I think about that, I stop. Achilles; now there's another source of my troubled thoughts. The trained Career, our supposed to be leader and now Meredith's number one target on her little "kill list" spared my life. What do I do about something like that? Will I be able to take him out with a clean conscience? No, most likely not; then again, I doubt that anyone, except maybe Meredith and Rowan, could ever kill someone and not feel anything about it. But still, I accepted the fact that I'd have to kill if it meant getting back home to Sandrine and I'm fine with it. Achilles though, he's a different story. And I'd better make my decision soon – for all I know he could be the one we're tracking. His ally was terribly injured, they couldn't have made it that far. That's another problem though. Would I be able to kill Imogen too? The tribute who reminded me so much of my sister, who's got just as much to lose in these Games as I do, if not more, could I take her life? I can feel the indecision bubbling up inside of me, threatening to overflow and turn me completely insane from the uncertainty of it all.

Try and act like more of your average Career, Perrin, I tell myself, trying to shake all of my thoughts from my head. Just don't think.

I smile slightly at the idea and begin to continue my search for the tribute we've been tracking when all of a sudden the earth vibrates beneath my feet and the sound of crunching and falling earth reaches my ears. My eyes narrow and I frown, before raising my trident in front of me and sprinting towards the source of the noise.

It's almost as if the earth is swallowing the surface; as I reach the other side of the tree I just stop and stare at the massive pool of sinking ground near the base of the trunk. What in the world's going on? A Gamemaker trap? But why here, why now after the Capitol audience just had the excitement of watching the bloodbath? Maybe it's just something natural, some sort of thing the arena does, like having the glowing spheres of light appear during the night. I ponder the growing hole for a second longer than shrug to myself and turn to try and find Meredith, see what she thinks of this.

It's only then that my gaze lands on the deadly axe laying a little ways away from the hole. Meredith's blade. I curse and look wildly around the clearing, but she's nowhere to be found. Besides, she'd never go anywhere without one of her precious weapons. So then . . . I turn back to the sink hole, the dawning realisation of what must have happened to my ally finally hitting me. She must be down there.

I bite my lip and run a hand through my bronze coloured hair, already messy after barely a day in the arena. What am I supposed to do? Obviously I can't dive into the hole in the hopes of saving her and yes, on more than one occasion I had contemplated the necessity that eventually she would have to die, but it wasn't supposed to be so soon. An ally like Meredith, no matter how unsettling they may be, can get you far in the Games, and I don't know what the Careers will do if they find out that one of their co-leaders was just killed.

But something seems off about that statement; my eyebrows knit together as I try and think. What the Careers will do if they find out that one of their co-leaders was just killed . . . Then where's the cannon? The sound of the ground collapsing is loud, but not loud enough to mask the cacophonous boom that rents the arena air when a tribute dies. So what has become of my ally?

Slowly the dirt begins to stop falling until it seems like the ground has stabilised itself once more. Still, I'm cautious as I make my way over to the edge of the hole preparing myself to see my ally's broken body or an infinite space of blackness or something similar. When my eyes finally are able to see into the giant chasm though, it turns out to be none of those things. However, for some reason I'm still not surprised with the outcome.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

My ally frowns up at me from her upside-down position in the hole, her left foot caught on a thick tree root and seeming to be the only thing that's keeping her suspended over the bottom of the hole, which is riddled with deadly looking spears, though they have odd shapes for the points, almost like the symbols on playing cards. Meredith doesn't seem to care though about how close she came to dying in a horribly painful way, just continues staring up at me and waiting for some help. After one more second of enjoying the scene and trying to hold back a laugh that I would most certainly pay for later, I get down on my knees at the edge of the hole and reach out a hand.

After two or three failed attempts the two of us finally manage to get our feet both planted back on solid ground. I'm prepared to give Meredith a second to catch her breath, but of course I should know my co-leader better than that by now. As soon as she's out and attempted to dust off the majority of the dirt that clings to her tribute uniform, she turns back to me. "It was the boy from 10 that we were tracking and I'm pretty sure it was a trap set up for us. He left that way." She jabs her hand in the northern direction of the arena. "And we might still be able to nail him if we hurry."

I look at her incredulously as she picks up her discarded axe and makes to head out. You'd think that after having a near death experience, most people would want to get back to the safety of their base and not push their luck trying to continue on in the arena. But of course, not Meredith. "Let's call it a night," I say to her, also standing. She shoots a disdainful look at me but I just point to the sky. "It'll be morning soon and we need to meet back with the others. Personally I'd rather not leave five bloodthirsty teenagers alone by themselves for more than a few minutes."

She snorts. "I'm sure they can handle themselves. But these other tributes need to be taken care of. Or are you worried about having to kill someone?"

I tense inwardly, but try not to show that she got to me. "I'm just thinking about things as a leader. If you want to think about things as a crazy monster, that's fine by me."

Her eyebrow rises in surprise; I guess she hadn't expected that coming. We continue staring each other down for a second more before she laughs. "Alright Mr Big Bad Career Daddy, whatever you say." She twirls her axe around and lets it rest on her shoulder before heading off in the direction of the Cornucopia. "You coming? It is your idea after all"

I watch her for a second longer and then nod. "Yeah, I'm coming." I heft up my trident and walk away from the sink hole, my gaze on Meredith the entire time. She acts all casual now, but sooner or later, the challenge of trying to lead together is going to be too much and she's going to want to have her way. I don't know what'll happen then. But a small part of my mind is beginning to think that maybe leaving Meredith to her fate in the chasm might have been a better option after all.