THIS is a first and foremost I've only recently added. For whatever reason, fanfiction has kindly given me spacing problems I can't be bothered to fix, so apologies in advance

A humble request from a humble reviewer, a list of those still alive. Here, a significantly shorter list than the last posted (which will continue to wane) – is this list:

D1: Luster & Astrid.

D2: Melanthe & Archie.

D3: Danielle.

D5: Avalynn

D6: Holden & Abe.

D7: Violet.

D8: Tarren & Micah.

D9: Cardinal

D12: Vigil & Reed

A quick note; day 7 has been planned for a long time. I've made it as 'T' as possible, but I think there is a psychological nature to day 7 so here's a quick warning. Also, to try and portray all (or most) of the events during the day, there'll be around 5-6 POV's per segment. So more for you to read!

Day Seven, Morning:

Luster Harbetto, District 1, 18:

The kitchen always bustled in the morning. I leant on the counter, watching as Astrid and Archimedes took turns to flip some bacon over. A simple task, and one that didn't require too much co-operation, but they still couldn't work with each other. I glanced into the sky, watching cumulus clouds drift and flow outside as the two argued:

"Some of the fat hit me, Archie," Astrid whined. "Don't do that. It hurt."

"I had to turn it, otherwise it would've burnt," Archimedes replied softly. Astrid flicked her hair over her shoulder, trying to appear more domineering, and glared at him.

"That bacon looks undercooked to me, if my bacon isn't crispy, I'm not eating it!"

Archimedes shrugged. "Then we will. There are kids out there who would kill to have a piece of bacon. In fact, it wouldn't surprise me if they were going to do so soon. So I'd value bacon while we have it. Bacon is valuable."

"Worship the bacon," Melanthe giggled, in a mock tone of adoration. Her response prompted looks from the rest of the group, so to shy away from embarrassment she hid her face behind the fridge door she had opened. I noticed she had took a particularly long time to find whatever she was looking for, and understood why she would be so desperate to avoid such attention. I smiled at her, trying to show her that I understood, though that only made her blush even more brightly.

After the awkward silence Melanthe shut the door, holding a milk bottle and taking a swig out of it. "Wait, it's day seven right … and there are fourteen of us alive?"

"Too many," Archimedes said in agreement.

"Well," Melanthe paused, almost as if she were going to flood out a monologue. "Somebody new has to die..."

"Tributes!"

We all paused. I didn't know whether to laugh at Melanthe or glare at her – that was eerily coincidental. Archimedes seemed to agree, as I noticed there was a dry smile on his lips; he enjoyed a good dosage of dramatic irony.

"Today is the wonderful day where the Capitol have planned a wonderful week anniversary celebration for all of you!" Astrid looked excited, almost as if she were ready to celebrate. This celebration didn't involve cake and balloons, I knew that much. Leein Malpin's next words were as sweet as sugar, though it carried a nasty aftertaste. "The Gamemakers have been spending much time on planning the theme of the celebration – Christmas, Halloween, fancy dress? But no, we have come up with a much more fun theme which I'm sure you'll all enjoy. Fear. Because we all know here in the Capitol that even though all twenty-four tributes are barbarians with Neanderthal ancestors, they're still slightly human."

"They think of us so highly," Melanthe mumbled next to me.

"This humanity grants them so many gifts – hopes, dreams and memories. And many weaknesses – fear, sin and doubt. Today the Gamemakers have decided to take a holistic approach, as opposed to the collectivism we tend to witness in other Games." All of us paused, intrigued. "We plan to embrace every single tribute's humanity – whether it's a strength, weakness, dream … their emotions, their pet peeves … we know information from every single tribute, and we plan to use their humanity against them with the force of a truck. The emotion most of you will face will be fear related, but some of you may find yourselves being surprised."

Archimedes' brow raised. Astrid's excited face had died like an animal that had been blitzed with lightning. Melanthe looked up at the sky, almost as if glancing to a deity. I just felt paralysed to the spot.

"It may seem impossible for the Capitol to do all of this in one day, but with careful planning since last year the Day of Fear will commence wonderfully, we will explain the process of the celebration to you all," Leein cleared his throat. "The arena had been filled with a gas that is specific to the human body – the trees and animals may continue to live and breathe, but all of you are slowly going to rot and die. First this gas will attack your nervous system – and then the blood will be poisoned and begin to dissolve into anarchy. Then your lungs will clog up. This will not be a slow process; you will drown in your own blood and slowly feel every single intestine in your body collapse as your immune system begins to attack and dismantle itself. Do not fear, this will not have any effect just yet, and you will be safe and sound for the first few hours."

"So we're dying, right?"

"Shush Astrid," I whispered.

"However, fortunately, we kind Gamemakers have given you the most wonderful present – antidotes! Each antidote will lie in a syringe which each tribute has to retrieve. They will retrieve this by completing and surviving various tasks the Gamemakers have set for them. It will be a blast." Leein's voice stopped with the gaudy enthusiasm and became more serious. "Each tribute is designated a single, flying orb that will bear the gender and District of each tribute. For example, the now deceased tribute Karble Ive will have M3 on his orb. This will guide them to their individual task –" Every Career glanced around furiously, though they were interrupted. "An exception are the Careers, who will be given a group task. Their orb can be found outside the door of their base; we decided to give them an even wilder party game."

"Seriously?" Archimedes rolled his eyes. "Looks like I'm working with you losers."

I had a feeling that though our challenge would be ten times more deadly, Archimedes should be a lot more relieved. Nothing seemed more daunting to me than the prospect of having to face your greatest fear alone.

Micah Miraude, 17, District 8:

Three orbs hovered in front of us obediently, each glowing the colour of the shoes we were given in the beginning of the Games. It was the first time I had kind of conceived the notion that Reed, Violet and I all came from various Districts, various backgrounds and had all had totally different experiences. And yet here we were, united by one thing: the need to survive. And that bond made us all seem in it together, almost like we were the same people.

It seemed as if individuality – a concept which the old Panem, America, seemed to value – was something the Capitol was finally embracing. They all saw things collectively: all tributes were cattle sent to slaughter, and all the Capitol citizens were wonderful people who wore ostentatious apparel. It was strange to finally feel like I was my own person, even if such a concept was being used against me.

Maybe that was even more Capitol propaganda. Individualism will get you killed. I chuckled thinking about it.

"Well..." Reed didn't know what to say. None of us were particularly emotionally intelligent. "You do know we can die, right?"

"It is the Hunger Games," Violet sounded a little more bashful than usual. Maybe she was suddenly aware of what fate held in store for her.

Reed grabbed Violet and I, showing more expression than she ever had before. I was almost worried that she had been possessed, but she wrapped her arms around us like tentacles and crushed us together into a group hug, burying her head into my chest and trying to keep the tears jailed.

"I love you guys, you know that right?"

Violet squealed and her and Reed had a girl moment. I smiled awkwardly, not really understanding what squeals meant in girl language.

"Make it back okay," I saluted. As soon as we turned to leave our orbs seemed to hover in a certain path, like tour guides leading us to a particularly macabre attraction. Reed was immediately separated from Violet and I, who continued to walk together in the middle of the forest. I grabbed my knife and kept it concealed in my belt, but was prepared to lash it out and stab anything that attacked me. Not just was this preparation for my task (which I wasn't too afraid of – who would be able to scare a guy who enjoyed taking risks?) but just because the Gamemakers were killing us off didn't mean that some psychopaths out there wouldn't continue to try.

"What do you reckon they're going to do to me?" Violet asked, fidgeting excessively. Her body language screamed nervous – I was doing pretty well, acting cool and indifferent. I guess I felt cool and indifferent.

"Make you break all of your nails?"

"Oh god," Violet looked shocked. "I'd rather die."

The sound of my foot snapping through a hollow, lifeless root boomed through the still forest. We walked forward for a few more slow seconds before I gave her a pretty serious look.

"Really?"

Violet giggled, but the happy tone was followed by a sad sigh. "Nah. Not really. If there's anything that being here has taught me … It's that … my own mortality is really precious. And maybe I haven't prioritised things as well as I should have," she smiled weakly. "Fashion is my life – it's my expression. But there's more to life than boys … or popularity … or partying … or wearing what's in. And I guess until we feel life get grabbed away from us, we really don't know what's important about it. I miss picnics with my family. And warm sunny days. And the rarity of having someone smile at you – that true smile … where you know that there's no façade … and there's no pretending from either parties. There's just sincerity, and in that moment knowing someone truly cares means everything..."

I thought about smiling, but I guess I didn't really know what kind of smile Violet wanted. Still, she was my friend – that was sincerity, right?

Before I could loll over the subject too vigorously Violet and I were segregated and forced to turn different paths, which left me with both pangs of regret and a sense of relief. Being on my own in the dark forest made me see the Games in a different light – there was certainly a peace to it, but I felt isolated and more vulnerable than ever, even though I was the strongest in my group. Eventually the orb's glow faded and died and it dropped to the ground, and I looked at a glass table that was randomly situated in front of me. Each held three syringes.

"Good day Micah."

"Give me what you got, you bastards," I muttered, striding to the table with my knife held out, ready to attack any mutts that came my way. When I reached the table there was nothing there – just the empty air and the three syringes, out in front of me, all with clear liquids.

"Your task won't measure your skill," Leein's voice spoke to me very threateningly. I had a feeling it was pre-recorded, and not live. "It won't measure your strength. Nor will it measure your wit." I paused. "This task is merely designed to measure your luck and your ability to take risks. In front of you are three syringes – though the substance in each one looks the same, each carry a different biomedical purpose. One is a placebo, which will not have any effect on your body – and this lack of effect will be unnoticeable to you. One is the cure, which will save you from the effects of the deadly gas. Last but not least, one syringe is a poison which will kill you five seconds after taking it."

I glanced at all three syringes. Dicks. The Capitol really were dicks – admirable dicks, dicks that scared the shit out of you, but dicks nonetheless.

"Good luck Micah."

Danielle Wright, District 3, 16:

Abe and I had decided to separate a while ago, as our orbs seemed to lead us into totally different areas. Abe was forced to wander through forest, whereas I moved through a more clear area – through pathways, dunes and clear spaces. I wondered what the Gamemakers had in store for me, if they had anything at all.

It wasn't exactly easy to be independent when your arm had been burnt to a crisp. I wasn't sure if it was dead or not, but there was no feeling in the blackened area that crawled from my elbow to the end of my fingers. The skin was blackened and burnt, almost revealing a glimpse of the singed muscle tissue beneath the flesh. It was honestly one of the most gruesome sights I had seen – but I did have a small use in my arm – my fingers, which weren't totally blackened, were barely able to move. They could only tighten and relax, but it allowed me to hold a weapon and gave me the slightest glimpse of hope that if I were to survive they wouldn't be to amputate my arm.

That was if I survived in the first place. I mused this as I crept under a small crevice underneath a pathway – one which would make a good pathway. Chances are I'd be fighting to survive in the next ten minutes. And though I admired the spot I was crawling under as a good place to hide, if the Gamemakers were so eager for me to hide there, it mustn't have been good to hide at all.

After a minute of crawling under the dirt, the ceiling above my elevated in height and I was able to crouch. After another minute of shuffling awkwardly I had the liberty to stand. At that precise moment the glowing orb in front of me switched off; dying completely and falling limp to the floor. Soon I was left standing in swirling darkness.

"Hello Danielle," I paused. This was Leein's voice, Leein Malpin, the commentator. The task had begun. "It's very good to see you independently. You're a leader, aren't you? The Capitol finds that unless the leader in question is a necessary one, such as the President, leaders aren't too useful." I tried to see in the darkness – usually your eyes adjusted to the blackness around you, but if anything, it only seemed to get darker. Almost as if the darkness was superficial. "They do not embrace themselves; leaders rely on others to get things done. Not just are you a leader – but you are a leader who likes to creep around in the dark, aren't you?"

The darkness around me felt even more intimidating. Obviously, standing in darkness was unpleasant, but now it began to felt like an entity.

"Hence we've put you in your biggest strength and your biggest weakness. Just as you wish, you will lurk in the dark Danielle. And as you feared, you will lurk there alone. We hope you can successfully find the antidote, which lies on the floor around you," I immediately tried crouching down, my good hand roaming the damp earth beneath, searching for anything. "But we lied when you said you'd be here alone – there is someone with you, though it will lead you, not you it. And no-one will see you die. They will merely hear you scream."

I gasped with worry when something seemed to grab onto my wrist. I tried to pull away, though it merely held onto me tighter, solidifying around me. My gasp soon turned into a scared whimper as I felt pinned into place.

"Good luck Danielle."

The thing, being a creature that fed on my fear more than my blood, shoved me to the ground. Though I had the freedom to move, I knew that this thing could kill, it knew where I was, and I couldn't escape it. I was the one who had the weapon. Abe could've boxed, so we agreed I'd take the weapon. Now I was glad I had it.

I shakily stood up, careful as I walked around so that I didn't stand and break on a glass syringe. Before each step forward I'd poke my foot around awkwardly, hoping, through my worn out shoes, I'd be able to feel a solid surface. The darkness around me stayed silent, still seeming to move around my peripheral vision before I was viciously shoved.

I cried out, falling into the dirt. Luckily nothing had broke. I purposely kept my mouth sealed as much as I could, quickly crawling forward but gasping in pain as something slashed against my back, tearing through fabric and flesh. I collapsed and felt the damp dirt on my cheek, felt it mix into my hair. There was a moment of silence where my frantic heartbeat became more slow, more ready. Unsure if I was even alive in this pitch darkness, I moved into a crawling position and kept my ragged breaths steady as I moved forward.

As I tried to turn, I felt something collide with my stomach like a meteorite; I couldn't even call out, I wasn't blessed with the air to do that. I merely made a choking noise and stopped myself from rolling to the floor, despise the pain and the shaking of my muscles. Trying desperately to suck into the air, I whimpered helplessly as I felt another force hit my face so hard the wind was expelled from me with a sickening crack.

The darkness was not my ally after all.

I tried standing up, despise feeling something tear into my good arm, sending blood spurting out. I couldn't fight this entity. It was too strong, and I was too scared. But what else could I do but stand here helplessly as this thing used me as a punching bag, savouring every cry of pain I gave out? I couldn't die, or I couldn't die without knowing I fought to reach my family first. My trembling, ruined hand, which screamed with agony with the rest of my body – all numbness gone, reached into my pocket and I slashed away into the darkness. At first I must have seemed mad, but then I felt my blade connect with something.

There was a scream as shrill as the night-air; the infernal cacophony hurt my ears, but it was a victory sound to me. I collapsed against the wall as the scream continued, trying to cover my ears to protect myself from the profoundly awful noise. Slowly the darkness began to absorb itself, the cave growing lighter as the darkness imploded like a black hole, slowly leaving me in light.

And I now knew why others preferred the light. I could see the cave walls around me, and the exit, and the last remnants of shadow slowly dissolve in the epicentre of nothingness. I could see the black, liquidy substance drip off my dagger.

And best of all I could see a syringe lying in the centre of the floor.

Reed Ardice, District 12, 17:

"Hello Reed," Leein Malpin's voice called out as my orb dropped to the ground. I was in a clearing, which was a welcoming chance from the forest around me. There was still something eerie about the area I was in – this was where my challenge would take place. It could be the last place I saw, the place the Gamemakers decided to kill me.

I had started to grow worried, as my body had drenched in sweat as if I had crossed the Sahara. It dropped from my brow as if my forehead were a waterfall, my lips were dry and chapped. The air became hotter, stuffier and harder to breathe. But it couldn't be the nerve agent the Gamemakers were using on us … that took hours to come into effect.

"Lets get this over with," I said, reaching for one of my knives while my now-pale lips struggled to form into a confident grin.

"Are you feeling a little ill, Reed?"

I paused.

"How unfortunate, do you know why that is?" I paused. "Your opponent will not be a difficult opponent Reed – in theory, you should be able to kill it easily. It is a symbol of innocence, harmless and scared." A small fawn came into the clearing, and it glanced at me shyly. It was a mutt and I knew it. I raised my blade. "It is not a mutt … it is innocent. Which is why you will struggle to kill it Reed. You may not say it, but you cannot kill the innocent. Everything you care for – the animals, your little sister, your allies. They're all so innocent in your world view. You can kill when you fight, yes, but you can never hunt, can you?"

I felt my stomach turn. It was something I never said, but something the Gamemakers seemed to know anyway. I felt as if my mind had been probed; the Gamemakers seemed to know everything about me by just observing the external, subtle surface of my emotions. And that unnerved me more than any Career.

"Well Reed, your task is to kill that innocent fawn," the words hit me like an arrow. "In its stomach, resistant to all of the stomach acids, is the syringe containing the vaccine. If you wish to survive, you must extract the vaccine." There was a chuckle. "It would be simple for any other tribute, but for you there are two circumstances – your psychological barriers preventing you killing the innocent, even if your own life is at stake, and the fact this gas was genetically modified so that an individual with your genome is particularly vulnerable."

I couldn't help but look horrified as Leein elucidated. "Yes, Reed. You're vulnerable to the gas – you, of all tributes in the arena, react particularly bad to it. In fact, we estimate you have at least thirty minutes left..." There was a beat. I almost didn't want to inhale the very substance that was killing me, but I realised that I had to inhale. I realised I was dying. "Good luck, Reed."

I couldn't let myself die. I decided that right off the bat, so my shaky hand immediately brandished my knife, ready to throw. Unfortunately, prey were adapted to escape predators, so the fawn's look at trust immediately grew into one of fear. It jumped aside as I clumsily threw a knife in its direction, my head buzzing with nausea. The doe continued to leap away, and I disorientatedly ran after it.

"No," I mumbled to myself, desperately reaching for a new knife, though my grip was too weak and I dropped it. The doe was slowly beginning to fade into the horizon, but one last burst of adrenaline sent a knife hurling at a vast distance. I didn't even see what happened, I just saw the doe collapse to the ground. I tried to run up to it, but I was already hugging onto the tree close to me, trying my best to remain standing, to keep my breaths at a ready pace.

I had gotten it. The hard part was over.

I staggered over to the corpse of the deer. My head was swirling and the journey – which was only about twenty metres – seemed to last for five hours. I was terrified to see that the young animal was still alive. It was twitching on the floor, whimpering desperately while its pleading eyes looked over to me. It was pleading with me, or toying with me.

"I'm sorry," I said, crouching down beside it, my knife able to do what I wanted it to do. I wanted to plummet it into the creature's stomach. My knife refused to obey me. I almost cried out in frustration, wanting to stab the creature.

It happened so subconsciously, but tears starting leaking down my face. I couldn't kill – what really made me more important than the deer? How could anybody play god and make me presume I was more important?

And then, when the tears from my face began coalescing with blood trickling down my nose, I knew that I had to act this way. It was a struggle for survival, and as much as I hated it, the deer had lost that struggle. I screamed, in anger with myself and at the Gamemakers, as I plummeted my knife into the deer's stomach. I heard it scream with me, still alive. So I plummeted my knife in the creature again, again, again and again. Continuously stabbing it while sobbing and shaking. It refused to die.

My hand followed the brutality of my knife, tearing into the creature's gaping wound and grabbing the slimy surface of its stomach. I felt two parts of me clash internally; a part that revelled in this, knew I was going to survive, and would sadistically do this one-hundred times again. And then there was a part of me that knew what I was doing was wrong. I was a killer. I was evil. It was as if my Id and Superego were fighting raucously and endlessly

With as much strength as I could muster, I tore the red stomach from the creature, finally silencing it. The next few seconds were a blur, but I wailed as my knife skewered the stomach and let the contents of the stomach pour against the forest blood to sizzle its blood. Though the acid hurt my hands, which were soaked in blood, I removed the syringe as I grew more light-headed. My vision was going blurry … I felt myself die.

And then I injected the substance into my arm. There was no sudden healing, I felt ill still, and slowly blurred out of consciousness. But as my body fell into the deer's carcass, using it as a pillow and soaking my hair in blood, I knew I would live. Every bit of me was red. The Gamemakers wanted it to be this way; they wanted me to carry the symbol of a murderer.

"Well done Reed," Leein said. "You have passed your challenge, though you can no longer call yourself a 'vegetarian' – can you?"

He was taunting me, and I would have been angry if I was any stronger. Instead, my mind plagued with the scene around me, I fell unconscious on the forest floor.

Cardinal Volke, District 9,

My eyes scanned the room before me. Why the Gamemakers had led me to an empty, creaking cabin in the middle of the woods was beyond me. But I was here. The orb which had guided me fell to the ground upon my arrival. When I opened the door I took in a few details – the window was shattered, and blood trickled down the pane to the floor, leaving a smudge of dry blood. The walls held axes, and – most wonderfully of all – the syringe containing the antidote was only a few metres in front of me.

There was only one thing preventing me from getting to it – wires zig-zagged across the room like spider a spider web. They were silver, metallic and (I noted as I drew my hand across it, watching the wire imprint into the flesh) they were sharp. Wonderful Gamemakers, I knew what game they were playing. Lets see if a few cuts makes Cardinal act like a coward.

I sucked and licked the blood away from my hand hungrily.

Cardinal was not going to act like a coward.

"Good day Cardinal," the voice of the commentator, whatever his name was, bounced around the empty shack and seemed to leak out of the window.

"Hello," I replied back menacingly, hoping the audience got a laugh out of it. I needed sponsors; I'd been lacking in sponsor gifts recently and I wondered why – was it because I killed Leo? I thought the Capitol liked death? They were still moralistic idiots like the rest of them. I didn't need them to kill further.

"The Capitol has noticed that you enjoy pain, Cardinal," good observation Capitol, good observation. The only time I don't like pain is when it stops me from engulfing myself in pain – like when that bitch Tarren had decided to bash my head in with a briefcase. It wasn't convenient that my head and mouth still throbbed, and that I had lost some teeth. "Both inflicting pain and receiving pain."

"Therefore, as a treat, for your task the Capitol intends to allow you to endure as much pain as possibleCardinal – this is what you must do to complete your task. You must walk, crawl, skip, dance or do anything to cross the razor sharp wires in order to reach your syringe," although the pain didn't bother me, I wondered if there was an easy way through – but the wires were so tightly compacted and plentiful, there were few spaces to crawl through safely. "There will be pain. There will be blood. We hope you enjoy it Cardinal."

I approached the first few wires, nonchalantly stretching them away from each other to cross. The wires dug into my hand, the cut on my left hand being further inflicted, but it didn't bother me. The searing pain was a sensation, and all human sensations were to be embraced – pleasure, pain, love, lust and anger. I embraced it all.

"Good luck Cardinal."

I smirked as I continued further, a wire slashing into my cheek while an interconnecting wire attached to it made a large cut across my forehead. More wires cut into my skin as I ventured into this little Gamemaker trap, but it didn't bother me. I revelled into the pain that travelled through my body. I enjoyed hearing the blood from my wounds pitter-patter against the cabin floor like raindrops.

I flinched as one wire got stuck into my nose, barring me from moving any further as it got lodged into the cartillage. And that pain actually made me gasp in shock, but that was quite wonderful. Still, if I continued any further the sundry wires towards my face would probably decapitate me. I sensible crouched down, crawling as wires slashed across my knees, my ankles, lightly marked my stomach. My clothes were torn and all blood stained, but I crawled forward obliviously.

Eventually I arrived at the syringe. I caught a glimpse of my cut up, sadistic face in the silver of the syringe's needle. I still had to return, but the Gamemakers knew that couldn't stop me now. I located a piece of flesh in my arm which hadn't been cut into, and allowed the needle to worm its way into the flesh, sending the substance into my bloodstream.

I went to stand forwards, but felt somewhat weak and dizzy. I paused, thinking for that brief second.

I couldn't lose too much blood. Or that would kill me. Pain was fun, pain was fun when you killed somebody else too – but I didn't want to die myself. I had no ambitions to win the Hunger Games, but I still wanted to be a contender. There was still so much killing to do. So much life to live, while taking other's lives in the process.

The Gamemakers weren't as stupid as I thought; they weren't treating me, they were using my own love against me. Today may be the day of fear, but they weren't only using fear to kill people. You almost won Gamemakers – almost.

I tore off the already tatty garments I wore, using them as bandages to tighten around any of the major arteries and veins (and, having inspected the human body first-hand, I knew all of them). The blood stained tatters were also thick enough to defend the lacerated, vulnerable areas further. I continued further, more cautiously this time, trying to evade as much of the wires as possible as I crawled through the jungle of metal. Getting back was just as easy as getting there, though there were much fewer cuts. I smirked as I approached the other side of the cabin, a trail of blood still following after me, but this blood not as plentiful as the prior ocean of crimson.

I didn't care if I bled. I didn't care if I inflicted pain, or felt it. I was alive, and I was going to live, and I was going to take the liberty of life from others. And that was what was most important. No Gamemaker, no nerve-gas and no sharp wires were ever going to take that right away from me.

Before I left, the orb which had fallen to the ground and cracked hummed. It once again let out a black hue, lifted, and shot ahead of me, starting to move to its original location. I thought it was supposed to lie there lazily, and not move. But what if the Gamemakers were trying to lead me somewhere else?

This was interesting. I should follow it.

And the first part of the 'Day of fear' … No deaths, but we do have our survivors. Cardinal, Danielle and Reed all passed their tasks. What about the other tributes?

Anyway, updating was on time was nice. I hope to get back into this groove now.

~Toxic