The hiatus is over, and it's the fiftieth chapter! I never imagined I would get to this point in the story. Thank all of you for your continued support. Without you, this would never have been possible.

The lucky 191st reviewer (from many months ago) is... AllThoseShadows! So a big round of applause for her, and as for the rest of you, I hope you aren't too disappointed—you'll learn the same piece of information a bit later down the road, and who knows? There might be another contest opportunity in the near future.

Fun Fact of the Chapter: How The Mentors Won Their Games, Part IX. Gabriel Fells, a recently-deceased D4 mentor mentioned in Carreen's reaping chapter, won the 117th Games, reaped the same year his sister was. They split from the Career pack and headed south, picking off the tributes they found injured along the way. Soon the pair were cornered by Careers on one side and triceratops mutts on the other. Gabriel saw his sister being slaughtered by the dinosaurs and, in a terrifying rage, killed all the Careers by himself.

…..

Emily Raine, District One

It seems like months have passed since the faces were last shown in the sky. One face, that is. The girl from District Five, obviously killed by the same kind of mutts that have been stalking me.

The mutts.

They've gathered, one by one, crawling out of each part of the woods as I run further and further trying to get away from them. They haven't killed me yet. But they will. Soon. Unless I can find a way to lose them...

I've tried shooting them, but they're so big and strong. They shake off my arrows, like their hides are impenetrable or something. I mean, there's some blood, but not much. And the blood that does... it just creates a trail so that even more mutts can find me and chase after me.

Maybe they're leading me towards something. Something dangerous. Other tributes, maybe?

But what could be more dangerous than a pack of mutts following you around?

I don't know. I honestly don't know. I can't help but wonder if this is happening to the other tributes or if it's just me...

My mind keeps going back to what Ivan said to Spark the night the training scores were announced. "You just don't want your precious little niece to end up on the edge of a sword for what you did!" And then I remember how panicked Spark looked at my reaping, and how he "shouldn't have"... shouldn't have what?

What did Spark do? And why do I have to end up dead because of it?

I glance back over my shoulder. The mutts are still there. Something swells up in my throat and I begin to panic because I don't want to die. Why do I have to die.

The words come out of my mouth without thinking, hoarse and barely audible. "Spark... Spark... I know... what... what shouldn't have... at least tell me why... send a note..."

But nothing comes.

…..

Caprice Alexander, District Eleven

After I told her, Jace just stood there, not moving or saying anything for what seemed like an impossibly long time. When she returned to reality, it was already dark and she just curled up next to a tree and went to sleep. Still not saying anything. It's kind of worrying, but then again, I wouldn't know how it would feel, suddenly rediscovering your mother after years of not knowing her. And finding that out during the Games, of all times...

I let her sleep.

After a few hours on watch, I begin to notice rustles in the nearby trees. Maybe they're just leaves falling. The trees seem to be shedding more as of late. But it's far too loud to be single leaves falling onto the ground. It's multiple leaves at once. Could it be... footsteps?

A craze of panic floods my mind. I can feel myself gripping my knives so tight it hurts, but somehow that manages to bring some measure of comfort as I bring myself back under control. Breathe, Caprice. Inhale, exhale.

Another rustle and I'm jumping up again, knives at the ready. Nothing. Caprice, it's just nerves.

Again. When I hit the ground from my jump I'm running as fast as I can, not thinking like any sort of rational person would, not thinking about how I'm leaving Jace alone and the supplies unguarded and how I couldn't have heard footsteps because the ground sinks in the vibrations—we discovered that on the first day, Caprice—andhow this running wouldn't do any good if someone was trying to ambush, they'd just be chasing me and they're probably much, much faster—

I'm too busy running that I don't notice when I slam into someone.

Damndamndamndamnwhoisitwhois itit's... it's the girl from Ten...

Chantelle Jacobsen stares down at me, knives also brandished. My impulses completely take over my brain as I slash and run, even faster than I did before, back to the camp.

I jolt Jace awake. "We need to move. Someone... someone's following us."

…..

Bri Geers, District Seven

She's not there.

She's not there.

I've counted the figures sleeping around the Cornucopia about twelve times, just to check. The boy from Two on watch, his district partner, both from Four, and the boy from One, but no Emily Raine.

Inwardly, I curse myself. She must have left days ago, which either means she's paranoid or the Careers are falling apart. Yet all of them are alive. If I wanted to strike their alliance, now would be as good a time as any. But you can't strike the Careers by yourself, and I abandoned my own alliance yesterday. There's no going back to them for help. Not that they would want to attack the Careers. They're much, much saner than I am.

A part of me wonders if they're okay, and soon the pangs of regret are starting up again. The Gamemakers couldn't have let them go on this long without some sort of drama, and now that I'm gone... are there mutts coming for them as I sit here? The same mutts that killed the girl from District Five? I shudder involuntarily at the thought, then begin stepping back.

Crunch.

My eyes fly wide open. So do the boy from Two's.

The leaves. Damn. The leaves turned red, then dried up and fell. The Gamemakers are accelerating the seasons—isn't that what Jace and Caprice and I figured out? Have I really been too focused to notice it happening after I left?

Never mind that. The Two boy is heading my way and if I don't start running, I'll be dead before I can even lay a finger on Emily Raine. Immediately, I turn tail and run as fast as I can, glancing over my shoulder all the while.

Eventually, he stops his chasing and heads back to the camp. I keep running, not even caring if I'm overheard. I need to find Emily now. Before the Gamemakers or anyone else gets to her. Before winter starts and all of the trees' cover blows away.

Before everything else in this arena dies.

…..

Veras Valdez, District Five

I've barely been awake an hour and I don't know how long I've slept, only that the wolf-mutt staring up at me is definitely, totally real.

This isn't as obvious a statement as one would think it would be. It's been almost as if I'm under tracker jacker venom the past twenty-four hours—that is, vivid hallucinations and dreams that you can't tell apart from waking. I don't actually know what tracker jacker is like—only the symptoms, written on paper—and I don't want to know. One muttation is enough to deal with at a time.

But the mutt is real, and I'm awake, and I have to get out of this situation—out of this tree—before the Gamemakers get bored and decide to send mutts that can climb. Or order this one to jump as high as it can. They wouldn't care if its mouth was only able to tear off half of me.

The nearest secure limb on the nearest tree is only about a foot away. If I can slide myself over a few inches, my right foot should be able to step onto it.

I stare at the branch. My vision's still hazy. What if I miss it? I would fall and then the mutt would have me. I squeeze my eyes shut, then open them up again. It's still blurry, and barely visible in this light.

I could try and calculate my odds, but I'm not sure they would be in my favor. So instead, I push back all my fears and, quite literally, go out on a limb.

There's a horrible moment where I feel my foot falling through air and have just enough time to think this is it, this is the end. Then, the falling abruptly stops. The weight of my foot springs the branch up a little. I slide onto it and swing the rest of my body into the next tree.

I try another. Then another. Soon, I'm practically jumping between the trees, just light enough not to break any branches.

I don't know if the wolf is following me yet. All I know is that I'm safe, as long as I keep moving.

…..

Luka Saroque, District One

As the night lingers on, it becomes almost impossible to wait through each of the goddamn minutes. Why is this taking so long? I would go to sleep, but I can't—I'm on watch. ot that I'd be sleeping anyway—Careers don't sleep, not four nights into the Games.

Four nights. Has it really been only four? It seems like forever. A forever of not doing anything.

Seriously. Night after night of hunting and getting absolutely nothing except that crazy girl and the boy from Seven, and they didn't even put up a good fight. Excuse me, but I didn't volunteer for these Games just to sit around with my allies and get annoyed. I want to wreak havoc, as much of it as possible. So when do I get my goddamn chance?

I'm starting to regret giving away the Eight girl's killing. I only have one death to my name, one of the weakest tributes in the arena. Eleven tributes killed already, only five of them by Careers, and only one by me.

I could blame the Gamemakers. They're the ones who put the weapons out where the weaker tributes could get them. But it's been days for us—for me—to level out the playing field.

I slide a knife out of my jacket. Time to start leveling.

I start towards the spot near the Cornucopia where the Fours are sleeping, but something jerks me back just as I reach towards Maddox's throat. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Emerald hisses. "Are you an idiot? It's not time yet!"

"Who says it's not?" I say, twisting out of her grip.

She tries to grab me again, but I'm a second ahead of her and am holding my knife at the perfect angle for jabbing itself up into her arm. As she grabs her knives, I slash against her hand, forcing her to let my go, and add in a backflip just for measure.

"Don't. Mess. With. Me." I grin my most psychotic grin. "Okay?"

She scowls but backs away all the same, and even as our alliance crumbles into dust, I can't help glowing with pride.

That was the most fun I've had in days.