Fletcher Kozlowski (18) D6M

Two cannons fired in one day. That was more bad news for me. Again, I was closer to winning, but again, I was also probably one step closer to death. With any luck, it was the Career Pack splitting, and two of them had just died, but it was unlikely. I suspected that the Careers were on the hunt again, and that meant I had to move. The only place to go in a mountain Arena was up, just like I had been doing ever since the feast. In the couple of days I had had I had made good progress, but I still wasn't as far up the mountain as I wanted to be. I needed to be safe.

As I climbed, I kept a careful eye out for wolves. I suspected that they were short-lived mutts, used only for one big huzzah before being retired forever, but I couldn't rely on that. I was mostly unharmed from the giant epidemic, but that didn't meant I was ready to take on a wolf with nothing but the brass knuckles I still had from the Bloodbath. Sure, I could punch hard, but a wolf could do a lot of damage as quickly as I could get to it. Getting attacked out of nowhere wasn't worth the risk.

The days seemed to be getting colder. I wasn't sure why the Gamemakers were still so insistent upon hurrying up the Games, but I shivered more each day. My fingers were starting to get stiff, and my legs didn't respond as well as they used to. It was nothing that would kill me, or stop me from climbing a little bit higher, but it was an annoyance. When Reaped, I hadn't fully considered the Arena. I knew it would be scary and I knew it would be hard, but I didn't comprehend just how much pain, annoyance, and boredom there would be. Even with death nipping at my heels, climbing all day, every day, wasn't fun.

So I decided to take a break. Night was approaching quickly, and I had close to ten minutes before I had to make my camp for the night. I figured that ten minutes wouldn't be the difference between life and death, especially at the pace which I was climbing. I kneeled in the snow, slowly writing something out. My fingers screamed at me with each stroke, but the pain quickly faded as they went numb. I would revive them with my breath once I finished the message.

Hey there, hun. I miss you tons. Make sure to have a lot of food for me when I get back, okay? I'm hungry. Love you, and I'm coming back, xoxo, Fletcher.


Giovanni Cancri (18) D8M

I was tired. It had been a lot of long, hard days in the Arena, and I hadn't gotten proper sleep in any of them. One of us had to keep watch at all times, even at night. When there were four of us it was no big deal, but now we were down to two, and it was exhausting. I could hardly keep concentration well during the day, much less at night, when I didn't expect to get attacked. The sudden cannons woke me up from a slight daze while we were climbing, due to the surprise of them and how loud they were, but a quick adrenaline rush did nothing for my overall health.

Climbing was wise, I had to admit. It was just also annoying and hard. My arms and legs were sore, even though the mountain wasn't very steep, and it was all I could do to stay awake. My stomach rumbled almost constantly, and I was thirsty despite being surrounded by snow. Demi insisted that it was bad to melt snow using your body heat, because the snow would cool you down as much as you warmed it up, and I trusted her. I was just also annoyed by that fact, because my throat was so raw I was somewhat expecting to cough up blood. All throughout that I tried to keep my head up, because keeping my head up was good, but it was getting pretty hard.

It got even harder when Demi suddenly coughed up blood. She just kneeled down on the ground and coughed, a small splat of foam and blood coming out. She kept coughing, sitting in the snow, and I sat down next to her. "What's wrong?!"

Without much breath, Demi couldn't very well reply to my question. Even if she could breathe, she probably didn't know what was wrong. She didn't show any signs of discomfort before she collapsed. She was just walking along with me, starting to consider eating snow to fill the holes in our bellies. That didn't really count as something that could mean she was going to collapse. She clutched at her chest, and I felt like I had heard of this thing before, but I didn't know what it was. Even if I did, I probably wouldn't have been able to stop it. I just got to sit there and watch as my ally slowly paled and slumped.


Tarabel Aspen (18) D12F

Two cannons went off. A while later, a third one fired. Each of those was greeted with a quiet celebration from me. In my weakened state, I couldn't hope to do much fighting at all. If tributes were dying off from natural causes, or, preferably, killing each other off, I wouldn't have to fight anyone. They would just injure themselves and kill themselves until I won by not dying. It wasn't the most dramatic way to win, but I had to admit that it was better than not winning at all do to death. Even if one more fight could be nice before I had to go back to being a reasonably-normal citizen, I had had plenty of action for the time being. I needed to recover.

Recovering was not easy in terrain like mine. I was constantly shivering, and I was constantly hungry. I scraped up whatever food I could find, finishing off the meager gifts Tatiana's sponsors had provided, but it wasn't enough. Searching for food and simply keeping warm took as many calories as I could put in, and I could feel it. I was getting weaker each day, slowly starting to travel less and less far before I got to the point where just the thought of moving one more inch was unbearable. It was a terrible situation to be in, and it was hugely frustrating, but I had to deal with it until I could find the well-hidden solution. If everyone hurried up their deaths it would be lovely, but most people seemed intent on doing just the opposite.

If I couldn't get enough food by scavenging the way I was, I would have to try something new. I had two viable options, and I was going to try both. "Hey, could you send me some food? I know things are getting pricey, but it's not much for getting a Victor, is it?" That plan was less likely to be effective than the other, which was more risky. I needed to cover more ground if I hoped to find new food. I stood up and sprinted. It was an exhausting task, because sprinting is hard on the body, but I could hold it up for a while. I just had to hope I found a good patch of food.


9th Place: Demi Ryea - Pulmonary Edema

In an Arena like this one, someone was bound to get pulmonary edema. Demi was the one that got it. I felt like I should break up the alliance, and Giovanni seemed like a stronger competitor that Demi. Pulmonary edema is actually not the worst way to go, just because it's so quick. She wasn't in pain for long at all before severe symptoms and death. Thank you to NightCat for Demi, who definitely was a contender.

UPDATE FOR FLETCHER'S OWNER (Snowstar2): I can write Fletcher without his form. It is just more difficult and I cannot promise exactly what you might want, because I can't obsessively check his form while I write.