F8: ROSE TRINITY
The cold air hits me like a hard blow to the face, and I barely manage to stifle a scream. The evergreen tree I perched in as the faces of the bloodbath faded in the night sky is now easily twenty feet away, and I have no idea how the rope gave way. I cover my head and I roll down the slope of the mountain, bumping and scraping my way along the rocky terrain. When I finally come to a halt against a boulder, I'm already sore. My legs ached from running yesterday and now my entire body hurts. I groan softly and rise shakily to my feet. As I dust myself off, I check for injuries. I have a few scratches from the twigs scattered across the ground, but nothing to be worried about, which is good, since I don't have any supplies.
I stagger over to my tree and pull the homemade rope from the lower branches. It's ripped unevenly- I must have been squirming in my sleep. I want to scream in frustration- I spent at least two hours on that rope! - but I bite back my tongue. I made it away from the bloodbath unscathed, and I'm not about to ruin that by calling out to anyone in my vicinity. It's probably clear, and the Careers certainly won't be hunting this early, but I refuse to risk anything. Instead, I snap the rope again angrily and reach for the tree limb. I must have run about a mile in my pell-mell flight yesterday, and I need to get my bearings.
The pine needles scratch my freckled face and the rough bark assaults my soft hands. Eight makes fabrics; I'm not used to rough materials such as these. When I finally reach the top of the sweet-smelling plant, I carefully poke my head from the needles. If anyone might be looking in this direction, my hair would be a dead giveaway, being as bright a copper as it is.
Mountains sweep in all directions, some of them capped with gleaming snow. It's a little disconcerting, as they all seem identical. Only the trees look different. On my mountain, the forest is entirely evergreen, as I saw from my exploration last night. I remember running through a grove of oak trees, too, and I look to my right. Sure enough, the mountain there is covered with towering oaks. That would mean…
I scramble back to the forest floor. I have no possessions, so I don't bother cleaning up my sleeping place. The rocks are treacherous, but the coarse boots that are part of the tribute outfit save my life a few times, preventing me slipping on a loose stone and slamming my head and gripping the mountainside when a small shower of rocks moves from under my feet. I'm breathing raggedly by the time I reach the oak mountain, and I inwardly groan at the thought of climbing that, too. I grit my teeth and, legs burning, I continue my trudge. This is the arena I'm in. I can't afford to be weak.
I can't afford to wear myself out, either. I stop, gasping for breath, just fifty meters away from where I decided to show no weakness. I sit against one of the gigantic oak trees, nestling myself between two arching roots. The leaves are turning autumn-gold in the crisp temperatures, even though it's summer at home. My hair won't be trouble in this hiding place, and I fold my arms across my knees.
I'm in the arena with no supplies, no allies (although that was my choice), and maybe or maybe not sponsors. There's a Career pack of six ruthless kids hogging the Cornucopia, with the exception of Linley. She never seemed to be as sadistic as the others.
They'd all kill me, no matter what they seemed to be. The arena always seems to do strange things to people's minds. Linley, with my luck, would turn out to be some sort of raging beast tribute. I really have no chance, do I? I'm weak, untrained, and I don't know why I even volunteered. Well, I actually do- to get away from my sexist family and prove myself. That seems so stupid now. I would gladly take my Spartan room, Laura, and Penny over the faint hunger and thirst bubbling in my stomach and imminent danger hanging over my head like a sword on a string.
I push myself back to my feet and break a thinner branch off of the wide oak tree as a walking stick. Forcing myself to take step after step, I consider my situation. I need to have an optimistic view, or else I'll never even have a chance. I do have a chance, I remind myself. There are seventeen tributes left, and I'm one of them. Even one of the Careers died in the bloodbath and that broad-shouldered, albeit kind, boy from Twelve killed himself.
I think my mutt ran from the bloodbath too. I had a really strong sensation while standing on my plate that my muttation was nearby. The closest four were a mottled silver lemur, a golden sphinx, a calico-patterned ferret, and a huge blue water snake, all of which took off even as I did. Why did the Capitol decide to torment us with these? I know at least one person died because their mutt was killed- Lucius, the blind boy, was running behind me and he collapsed dead with no weapon in him. The Quell theme is already taking its toll, and I have no idea what or where my mutt is, or who it may be near.
What have I gotten myself into?
M10: ALEX TIBOLLA
"Get up, moron! You're not lying at home, sleeping till noon anymore!" I pull myself from the thick haze of sleep and struggle to sit up. I never have gotten the opportunity to sleep until noon. This is a good way to irritate a kid who grew up on a ranch. As I sit up, my head knocks into something painfully.
"OW!" I shout, grabbing at my head and falling back into my sleeping bag. I hear a growl of irritation from above me. Somebody grabs my shirtfront and hauls me to my feet. I finally wrench apart my eyelids, dispelling any last illusions of dreams, and see Reetan scowling less than two inches away from me. Marius is standing alongside him, rubbing his forehead. He must have been what I collided with. Awkward.
"Listen- Dylan is dead now and we are one short for the hunting plans. We have got to sort things out before we start again," Reetan barks.
"Well, if we're not going hunting today, couldn't I have stayed asleep?" I moan.
"Listen, pretty boy. The only reason you're here is because we thought you may be strong. If you don't prove that TODAY, we'll be watching the hovercraft carry away your body by nightfall. We'll have the girls kill you, too. How humiliating would that be? Our own lady killer, killed by ladies!" Marius sneers, "Besides, I never said we weren't hunting." They shove me out of the tent, sending me sprawling onto the hard dirt, the lush grass having been pulled up during the bloodbath fight. Ebony smirks as she emerges from the navy girls' tent.
Stavren tosses two cans of Spam towards us. "What? I'm not eating this after that Capitol food! I saw some good stuff in that stash, why can't we eat that instead?" I protest, picking up one of the cans. The girl's face contorts into a furious snarl and she walks over to me. I'm expecting a lecture, or possibly a slap across the face- I've had plenty of those- but she punches me in the gut. "OOF!"
"Were you never listening during the planning sessions?!" she hisses, "We save the good stuff for when we're starting to actually get hungry. We eat the nasty food first to get it out of the way!" I notice Reetan and Marius laughing behind me. I turn around to find them cramming the stuff into their mouths.
"What are you laughing at, it's a valid argument!" I argue, mortified.
"You, idiot!" Marius cracks up. I retreat to the shade of the Cornucopia to stew in my own humiliation, nurse my injured pride, and choke down the Spam. Eventually, when all the mists around the forests have dissipated, Reetan and Marius call the Career pack together.
"All right. We think we've worked out a new hunting plan. Stavren and Alex will go to the mountain that has willow trees, armed to the teeth and ready to kill." Stavren glares at me like I'm some sort of dead animal. I guess, to her, I am. Linley and Marius both hide laughs at Stavren's death stare. Reetan continues, pretending not to notice. "Marius and I will take the maple mountain."
Linley begins to say, "What about us?" but Ebony stops her.
"Our job didn't change. We are guards today," she says as she twirls a lock of her shortened hair between her fingers. The younger girl nods.
I grab two spears from the pile of weapons and strap on a belt of knives. Stavren has a slingshot and a crossbow, and a backpack half-full of food and two bottles of water. I offer a smile, but she glares at me again. "Just stop, pretty boy. They took away my token and I'm still not used to it." She traces the hollow of her neck, where her usual stone necklace was tied.
"Why'd they take it?"
"Well, duh. I use that thing as a slingshot, and I'm a dead shot with it, too!" she snaps. I shut up and let her take the lead as we walk towards the willow mountain.
The trees are not foreboding, as they look from a distance. After an hour or so scouting among the trailing branches, I hear something in the underbrush.
The hunt is afoot.
M8: SCAR MATTHEWS
And uh... that's it! I have no record of what the rest of this chapter is supposed to be! I also have no record of which mutts belong to which tribute except what's discussed in-story, so have fun figuring that out!