Hope you all enjoy this week's chapter! :)

Leto Larston (18)- D2F

I didn't get as much sleep last night as I wanted. I'd been woken in the middle of the night by what felt like droplets of cold water touching my face. It had taken me a few moments of groggy confusion before I realized they were snowflakes. I had stayed up for the rest of the night waiting to see what other changes the Gamemakers had in store, but nothing else seemed to have changed aside from the climate.

In the early morning light, I can see that previously bright green hills are covered in a thin layer of glittering snow. The snowflakes haven't stopped falling, and they seem to be getting larger and fluffier. Soon, the entire arena will be covered. The Gamemakers at least gave us one advantage- our uniforms have transformed over night into a thicker, warmer bodysuit and some gloves. Even our boots seem to have turned into heavier snow boots. It's a good thing I brought a fire-making kit and a blanket with me.

I sit and eat a short breakfast of an orange and some dried meat. I drink some water as well, realizing that with the snow on the ground, there is abundant water in the arena. There will likely be less dehydration deaths, which means more opponents. On the other hand, most of them will be weak and hungry from the cold. After eating, I craft a second layer of clothing with my blanket. The trainers at the Academy always impressed on us that we should conserve our body heat in any way we can if we found ourselves in a cold arena.

With my newly-fashioned coat wrapped around my body, I begin my journey for the day. I keep my whip in hand, just in case I come across any other tributes. My other hand reaches up to touch the silver star broach that Adrienne gave me. It's freezing to the touch, but the image of Adrienne's snow white skin and long brown hair floating in front of my eyes warms me.

Luna Everett (12)- D11F

I could barely sleep last night after realizing what I'd done. I'm still not sure what exactly the flower triggered in the arena, or if it's going to help me in the future. I shiver as I get ready for the day, nibbling on the last of my fish. I need to find more food, though I do have a bit of water left. I stare warily at the tall grass surrounding my little clearing. It's covered in a light frost, some of it weighed down by the burden of the snow. Maybe it will be easier to walk through when it's not blocking my vision as much.

I'm not used to the cold. Temperatures in Eleven never drop this low. I've never seen actual snowflakes like this before. Sometimes the winters in Eleven could have frost on the trees in the morning, but not like this. The spiders don't seem to like it either. They're dispersed somewhat, though a few of them still crawl under my feet as I begin to trudge through the grass. The snow falls lightly onto my face and hair as I walk. I

I need to be looking for food. I have a knife that I can use to kill some kind of little creature if I come across it. I glance down at the little spiders beneath my feet with disgust. Of course, if I get desperate enough, then I can always eat these little insects. If I'm lucky, there will be actual seeds or berries or some other kind of food that I can eat. I shudder as I put one foot in front of the other, looking desperately for some kind of direction. The only thing that I can afford to do is keep moving and hope I find food.

Blossom Urakaka (15)- D9F

It didn't take me long after waking up this morning to realize that I can't stay here anymore. My mountain paradise has lost its charm. The fruit trees have wilted and the fruit has rotted. The grass is covered in frost, and snow is falling heavily from the sky. Apparently the Gamemakers got tired of me staying up here in my little hidey-hole.

My bare feet are freezing and my toes are almost completely numb. I remarkably don't feel too panicked at the thought of losing my toes or even my entire feet. As long as I can keep most of my body warm, I can still win this. And the Capitol can give me some fake golden feet with robotic toes.

I spend some time taking down my traps to recover the rope. I'll probably need it to catch food later. My cold feet pad against the freezing marble floor, which causes me to shiver. Back in Seven, the Skull cult would prepare us for cold temperatures in the fields by making us sleep alone outside during the winter months, so I'm no stranger to cold. I always had shoes for those nights, though. I wouldn't have thrown them away if I knew that this would happen.

I gather my supplies and take stock of everything that I have. Rope, sharp stick spears, a fire-starting kit, some iodine, the water from my sponsors, and some rotten fruit. I sigh and throw the apples away from my pile of supplies. They land over at the other end of the paradise, which draws my attention to the statue at the end of the marble colonnade. The large figure of President Snow greets my eyes, making me shudder even more than the cold does. I haven't dared to approach it since I first climbed up here. The carved stone face is just as austere as it was in real life when I saw him from faraway at the Tribute Parade. I slowly pad over to the statue, keeping my eyes on its face just in case it comes to life and starts attacking me.

My eyes naturally drift down to its out-stretched hand, which holds out a small vial of liquid. Underneath it is a plaque with a riddle inscribed. A riddle that I read once when I first arrived in my little paradise, but haven't read since.

Nectar of the gods

To spread through the veins

Human blood is lost

Gold imbued is its bane

It still doesn't make perfect sense, but I haven't been able to shake away the feeling that the liquid is a poison. Even if it isn't, I would be a fool to leave it behind. I glance up at the face of President Snow. Under his scrutiny, I feel pressured to take the liquid. The odds can change at any time, but it feels like the President is giving me an extra variable. An extra shot at victory.

I quickly swipe the vial from his hand. It is indeed gold, like the riddle says. Bits of glitter are suspended in the vial. I wrap my fingers around it resolutely and carefully place it in my backpack.

Just as I turn away from the statue, I hear a distinct twinkling sound from the side of the mountain. I quickly dash to the edge, looking out from under the marble roof. A small parachute is descending from the sky bearing a rather large silver package. I impatiently wait for it to reach me, then eagerly rip open the box. Inside is a lifesaver- a pair of warm winter boots. I merrily take out the boots and toss away the parachute and box, sitting down to slip the boots and socks over my bare feet. I sigh as my toes warm up in the insulated boots.

I turn around and take one last look at my little home. I can do this. My story does not end here. I glance up at the sky, which is completely clouded with snow and mist. If I've survived the Skull Cult for most of my life, I can survive this.

Marlowe Bahari (18)- D4F

After spending my first night alone in the arena, I can't believe I didn't do this sooner. Nothing can beat being alone with my thoughts and my own planning. I spent the morning practicing with my baton in the woods, slicing off the branches of trees and into the trunks. I feel stronger than ever now that I'm free of my allied chains.

I've now been walking for a few hours on my own, keeping my eyes peeled for any tributes. My baton is tightly gripped in my hand and my water bottle in the other as I stalk through the underbrush. Unfortunately, I haven't seen anything except for birds and squirrels. There's a large mass up ahead that I can see through the trees. It's almost like a mound, or a mountain.

I catch a glimpse of the sun through the leaves above me, and realize how long I've been hunting. My stomach suddenly rumbles with hunger. How irritating.

I find a place to sit that isn't covered in snow so that I can sate my hunger. The snow seems to be getting thicker and heavier. No matter. I was trained to survive any climate in the arena. As I'm eating, I abruptly feel a twinge in my shoulder where that bald bitch stabbed me with an arrow. I stop and rotate my shoulder carefully, wincing as my arm spasms in pain. I sigh in exasperation.

I put away my food and take off my shirt so I can get a better look at my shoulder. What I see stuns me. The wound seems to have gotten worse. Even through the bandages, I can see that it's swollen and leaking. Yellow pus is soaking through the white gauze. I gingerly pry the bandages from my skin, and hold my breath as the damage is revealed. The wound is oozing and the skin around it is red and hot to the touch. I hold back a scream of frustration that would give away my location. Why the hell is this happening to me? I did everything right! I put medicine on the wound and wrapped it up properly. I even rested for a night before leaving the next morning.

You should have rested more, says a voice that sounds suspiciously like Gaia's. You shouldn't have practiced so hard this morning. You shouldn't have let that girl overpower you.

I shake away the thoughts angrily. My best friend Gaia and I have always been the voices of reason for each other. When she got into her head about food and her weight, I would convince her that she couldn't train without a steady diet. And when I got into one of my moods, she could always calm me down. I still have the scars from when I would hurt myself just to hurt everyone else's feelings. And my boyfriend Reggie still has one scar on his cheek from when I smashed a glass against his face.

I draw in even breaths, trying to steady my mind. I slowly name one thing that I can feel, two things I can hear, three things I can see. The cold snow on my bare skin. The distant hooting of owls and the sharply cold breeze. The white frost on the grass, the bark of the trees, the dark red blood on my fingers.

Once I feel more grounded, I shakily reach into my pack for medicine and bandages. I apply some of the cream that I brought in my med-kit, then wrap in carefully in fresh gauze. I relax on the ground for a few moments, leaning back against a tree trunk. I close my eyes, feeling the snowflakes fall gently onto my face and melt the moment they touch my skin. Maybe instead of rushing to find tributes, I should take some time to rest and let my injury heal a bit. There will be plenty of tributes to kill once I recover.

Flux DuBois (14)- D8F

Raven seems to be feeling a bit better after spending the night and most of the day resting on the shore. He hasn't said anything, but I can tell that his illness is worsening. It seems that the Capitol medicine is well and truly wearing off. Every now and then he coughs up a handful of blood and phlegm, looking pale as a ghost. His fiery red hair contrasts with his white skin in the worst way. I make sure to keep an eye on him as I spear fish off the edge of the shore. After gathering a few fat ones, I make a fire with the sticks and rocks from the forest and roast our dinner. As I'm turning the fish over on the fire, I realize just how much I actually learned during training. I couldn't have done any of this before my trip to the Capitol.

Raven snores gently, then shakes his head as the noise wakes him up. I smirk to myself as he sits with a groan. "Ugh… why is it so cold?"

I keep my attention on the fish. "It started snowing overnight. Dunno why."

Raven rubs his eyes and shakily gets to his feet. I stand and help him over to the fire, where he sits in the sand and lets out a large breath. His breath is visible as mist as it comes out of his mouth. He warms his hands by the fire and shivers a bit, face looking ashen and tired. I hand him one fish while examining his face.

"We're going to see the tigers, right?" he asks weakly, biting into the roasted fish.

I nod silently, taking a fish for myself. "I can go by myself."

He looks up quickly. "No way. I'm coming with you." His tone leaves no room for discussion. But I'm nothing if not a debater.

"You're too sick," I argue. "I can use the feast thing by myself."

"Well, I'm the one who got it at the feast," Raven says, raising an eyebrow. "I should be the one to use it."

I cross my arms and tap my foot on the sand for a few moments. His green eyes stare into mine steadily without backing down.

"Fine," I say while rolling my eyes. "We should head out soon then. The sun is setting soon."

Raven nods with a small smile. The more time we spend together, the more he reminds me of Kaine. I catch myself wondering if they would get along, before I realize that if they ever meet, that means I would be dead. I will never get to see it.

We spend the next hour or so camouflaging ourselves with mud and leaves. Now that I have practice, I show Raven how to make the leaves stick to his skin. The mud itself is much colder than it was before. The slick, chilled mud against my skin makes me shiver a bit.

Raven does stumble a bit as we walk inland, but he seems generally stronger than he did when he first arrived on the island yesterday. When we reach the building, I slow down and turn to Raven. He's staring at the marble columns with awe and confusion.

"The water is inside," I say quietly.

"With the tigers?" he says, sounding slightly afraid.

I roll my eyes again. "Told you I could've come alone."

"We don't know if it's going to work," he reminds me.

"You said that it was behind a picture of the island and a tiger, right?" I ask pointedly.

Raven huffs. "Yes. But we don't know what's going to happen."

I turn away from him and gaze at the marble building. The tops of the columns are decorated with intricate leaves, flowers, and vines. It's a strange contrast with the actual vines growing up the columns themselves.

I draw in a deep breath. If I do this, then Raven and I will have unlimited water for the rest of the Games. Raven silently hands me the vial of liquid he got from the feast. The liquid inside has a strange gray color to it. I grip the liquid tightly in my palm and begin to creep up to the building.

I keep my footsteps as quiet as possible as I approach the marble steps. As I get closer, I can see the tigers and lions lounging around inside. A few take sips from the moat of water; others lay around sleeping or playing. A pair of lions growl loudly as they snap at each other's necks playfully. They all seem unbothered by the latest cold weather, or the snow that's right outside the building. I shakily approach the water and unscrew the vial of liquid, then kneel down and gently pour it into the moat.

The gray sparkly liquid slowly diffuses through the water. It's tendrils of reach over to where one tiger is lightly lapping up the water, and beyond. Having completed my task, I slowly back up and gingerly walk down the marble steps. The tiger licks up a bit of the dirtied water and shakes its head, making a disgusted face. I can only hope that this works.

Logan Wheeler (18)- D6M

I had been confused after the bloodbath when Volt revealed his spoils from the Cornucopia. A winter coat had been among the stash of items, which at the time seemed pointless. Its cryptic appearance in the arena, which seemed to have a warm, dry climate, had been perplexing. I had been worried we would have to prepare for colder weather, but it never happened. Until now. But tonight, I'm glad that I didn't. I wrap the puffy coat around myself as I huddle between some giant slabs of rock. I've shoveled out some of the snow from my little cave with my hands, which are now freezing in the dark of night without any fire to warm them up. I keep them tucked into my chest to try and keep them warm. I can't afford to lose my fingers.

I'm glad that I didn't abandon my coat back when it had seemed more like a burden than a boon. Snow falls into my hair and all around my body. Earlier in the day, the snow had only been a light frost on the grass, but it hasn't stopped snowing since last night. The grass is now covered in layers of white, crystalline snow, and I have a horrible inkling that it will only get worse from here. Not far away, I hear the beast guarding the stash of food breathing heavily in its sleep.

The pristine white field reflects the moonlight from above. I shiver and pull the coat tighter around me, staring up at the stars. No deaths today. Maybe the Gamemakers are hoping to freeze some of us to death to speed up the Games. The Capitol might be getting bored, even though the feast was only a few days ago.

As I cower under my coat, pitifully trying to shelter behind the rocks to avoid the biting winter wind, I feel like a little mouse hiding from the elements. Anger rises in my chest and bubbles in my throat. Is this really my destiny? To huddle under a coat during cold nights, starving and alone, until I get the chance to kill other innocent victims of the Capitol and get sent home? My stomach rumbles with hunger and my hands shake from the cold. I ate the last of my jerky earlier today. My only hope to survive is to get to that food behind the mutt.

I silently stand with the coat wrapped around me. I can barely see through the torrents of snow, but I can hear the creature's breathing. I blindly step into the thick layer of snow and ice on the ground. One foot after the other. The stars above twinkle at me like they're mocking me. I shudder from the cold as I approach the creature's lair. It's massive furry hide heaves with breath, it's wings tucked close to its body for warmth. Large lion paws flex even in its sleep, and I draw in a breath to gather my courage.

Sword gripped tight in hand, I cautiously advance over the mosaic, which is somehow still clear of snow. The creature's feathered wings twitch as I get closer. I curl my fingers around the hilt until my knuckles turn white, trying to keep my breath soft while I creep past its furry body. Through the gushes of snow, I catch a glimpse of a steaming platter with a roast pig. I hold my breath. My hand reaches out for the food, in desperation hoping that I can summon it into my palm.

Just as I take another step, the beasts' serpentine tail strikes my chest and blows me back to the mosaic. My head smacks against the cold marble floor. I groan, reaching up to cradle the back of my head. I sit up to glare at the creature, whose yellow feline eyes are now open. Its feathers twitter in irritation.

Rage bubbles in my chest. Back in Six, Natalie was always there to calm me down. Here, there's nothing but snow and my sword. I grit my teeth and stare resolutely in the creature's sharp, calculating eyes.

"Fucking cat, let me past!" I shout. It blinks at me blankly.

I know I shouldn't charge it again, but I have no other choices. I'm not going to starve here. The snow flies past my face as I let out a battle cry, swinging my sword ahead of me. I aim for its foot lying on the floor, hacking downward. The blade barely nicks its paw before the creature swipes me away with the other.

I growl to myself as I retreat. Fury pounding through my veins, I glance down at the mosaic under my feet. This damn riddle. It has to provide a way to the food. But how?

Blossom Urakaka (15)- D9F

The early morning light permeates through the leaves above as I trudge through the snow. My fingers absent-mindedly mess with the token in my pocket; the coin I'd found on the street on the day of the Reaping. The winters in District Nine can get pretty tough, but last night's blizzard was worse than anything I'd ever experienced. After the deluge of snow had swirled to a stop, the white morning sunlight had suddenly appeared in the sky to reveal a calm, picturesque winter sunrise. I'm incredibly lucky that my mentors sent me some boots, otherwise I'm not sure I would even be able to walk through this snow.

Now that the blizzard is over, I need to find a spot to start a fire and warm up. I stumble through the trees, searching for a suitable spot. The silhouette of the mountain looms behind me mockingly. Perhaps if I stayed up in my little paradise, I would have had a place to keep a fire going, even if I didn't have food.

Exhausted, I push past a hanging branch of pine needles and take another step in the deep snow, before I catch sight of what's in front of me.

A person is sleeping under the trees, their back turned to me. A smoldering fire is at their feet. With bated breath, take my hand out of my pocket. I reach behind me to draw my sharpened wooden staff and quickly take stock of the area. I don't see anyone else, but this person's allies could be nearby.

I take a cautious step toward the sleeping body. Their golden hairs spills out of their sleeping bag. I realize with a start that this is a Career. The girl from Four, who scored a nine in training. I may have scored a seven, but I know that I can't take her in hand-to-hand combat. I need to act while she's still asleep.

I let out a long breath. My backpack slips off my shoulder and I grab it quickly, then remember what I retrieved from Snow's hand on the mountain.

Human blood is lost

Gold imbued is its bane.

I slip the vial of liquid from my pack. A poison, or a trick? What if Snow was only setting me up?

My other hand grips my spear tightly and I glance again at Marlowe. She's lying on her side, her body heaving with steady breaths. I could shove the point of my spear into her throat. Watch as the blood bubbles up and over her tan skin, soaking the sleeping bag. But what if she hears my crunchy footsteps approaching? What if she wakes up just in time and knocks my feet out from under me and takes my spear, thrusting it into my body instead?

After mulling over my options, I decide that using my poison would be the safest choice. I spot a water bottle sitting near the fire, probably to keep it unfrozen. It's only a few feet away; easily accessible. I slowly shuffle toward it, trying to keep as silent as possible. At the bottom of the sleeping bag, I quickly snatch up the bottle and unscrew my vial of liquid. I dare not use all of it, but I pour about half of the vial's contents into the water, watching as golden tendrils of glitter permeate the water before disappearing. I shake the bottle curiously. If this works, I can kill one of my biggest competitors without having to draw any blood.

I gently place the water back into the snow and screw the lid back on my vial.

Then a sudden blow to the head knocks me to the ground. A thin silver blade stabs down toward me, and I roll to barely avoid it. I try jumping to my feet but my numb toes give way under my weight. I fall back down just as the bladed baton swings where I was just standing. Marlowe stills, and we take a moment to size each other up. Her green eyes are filled with rage, and another emotion that is not often seen in the gaze of Careers. Fear. Her shoulder is bright red with blood. She's wounded.

She bares her teeth just before lunging at me again. I roll away once again, barely avoiding her blade. I try to get to my feet again, but she grabs me by the hair and pulls me back. Before she can place the blade against my throat, I elbow her in the stomach and turn around to punch her in the same place. She staggers a bit, and I vaguely register how my hand hurts after the punch. I grab my spear which had fallen beside me and try to shove it into her body, but she slices it in half with a baton. She lets out an animalistic scream and hurls her body toward me, toppling us both over.

We roll for a few seconds, and I reflexively use my fist to knock her weapon out of her hand. Not missing a beat, she repeatedly punches me in the face. Hard. I dazedly feel my nose crack as I reach up to dig my thumb into her shoulder wound. She yelps in pain and lets up her pressure on my body, allowing me to knee her in the stomach and roll her over. She scrabbles at me face as I try to pin her hands down. I dig another gloved finger into her shoulder, making her scream even louder. I punch her in return, but I know I don't have the strength to keep her down, even injured as she is.

I glance over to the snow where we've been rolling and notice my token sitting pristinely on the white bank. The coin must have tumbled out of my pocket. I grab the coin just as she reaches up to scratch at my eyes. I reflexively shove it into her bloody mouth as she opens her lips to growl at me. Her eyes widen as the coin is crammed down her throat. She lets out a yowl of desperation, squeezing my own throat before her hands come up to scrabble at her own. Her eyes are wide with fear and disbelief as she starts to choke.

I finally stand, wobbling on my numb feet and reaching for the bladed baton that I knocked out of her hand. Before she can get up, I take the sharp end and shove it into her chest.

The blade seems to sink slowly through her clothing and into her skin. Blood stains the fabric around the wound. Her hands reach up to grip the blade, blood trailing out of her mouth and nose, her eyes staring up at me. She futilely tries to draw in a breath, but I can hear the coin blocking the way. She shakily tries to stand with the last of her energy, before falling back onto the snow, unmoving. A distant cannon thunders.

I shamble over to her body. Her green eyes, once so beautiful, now stare up at the tree branches blankly.

Pain abruptly shoots through my broken nose and my hand. I shakily reach up with bruised knuckles to wipe away blood from my face. I draw in a deep breath, then take a gander at all of the supplies that I've just received. None of that went according to plan, but I have the spoils nonetheless.

Passion Mavros (17)- D1F

A cannonshot suddenly sounds throughout the arena. I look up from my reflection in the Cornucopia to see some birds take flight from the forest, having been spooked by the noise. I toss my jet-black hair over my shoulder, wishing that I had a hairbrush and a straightener. Who knows if my hair will ever recover from all of this damage.

I turn back to my reflection, rubbing away a smudge with my sleeve. I had planned to go hunting yesterday, but the snow had hindered my plans. At least the white snow was a perfect contrast to my black hair. I've never seen snow this deep. Back in One, the winters are short and not as cold. The frigid temperature of the arena chills me to the bone. Leaving the Cornucopia might be a death sentence if I don't bring the appropriate gear… and it was very nice to have shelter from the blizzard last night. I have the most kills anyway. Why bother risking it?

Still, I'm starting to get restless just sitting around. There's one less competitor in the arena as of a few minutes ago. I can only hope that it's either Leto or Marlowe. I'm confident that I could take on either of them in a fight, of course. But if some other tributes want to do my work for me, I wouldn't object.

I take a moment to glance around at the once-grassy clearing that is now covered in a thick layer of snow. If I leave the Cornucopia now, I might be leaving all of my supplies as free pickings for the other tributes. Even Marlowe or Leto might come back and rob me blind. It's not often that a Career finds themselves alone at the golden horn so early in the Games. Part of me wonders if Leto breaking up the alliance was just a ruse so that she could come back and steal all of the supplies while I'm gone. But Leto doesn't strike me as the type to do that. She would do anything to win, except cheat.

I probably have nothing to worry about. I should find someone to kill so that I can give the Capitol what they love about snowy arenas: that gorgeous contrast between steaming red blood and crystalline white snow. I absently grab my mini-axe from my belt and spin it around, imagining that I was slicing through a tribute's neck as they screamed for mercy.

Passion!

I stop in my tracks, my breath stuck in my throat. I turn around, trying to see if those wild-haired women followed me here from the coast. There's no one. Nothing. I let out a shaky breath.

Passion!

Callum's voice is grating on my ears. Suddenly he's standing in front of me in the snow. The point of a sword appears through his stomach, and blood spurts out of his mouth. He falls onto the snow, and the young girl from Eight crawls over his back to pull back his head and slit his throat. Blood spills onto the bright snow.

I draw in panicked breaths. I shut my eyes tight, and when I open them again, the scene is gone.

I squat down and bury my head in between my knees. After all this time, why is Callum still haunting me?

I was protecting you. Callum had said before the bloodbath. The last conversation I'd ever had with him. That's what you brought me here for, right?

And yet I was the one who couldn't protect him.

Maybe I'm going crazy.

I need to get out of here.

I quickly gather some supplies and head in the direction of the coast.

Caillou Wight (17)- D3F

The cream from my first-aid kit doesn't seem to have helped with my rash. It's spread from my leg further up my body to my stomach and partway down my other thigh. I know that I have sensitive skin and I'm no stranger to having irritation, but this instance is starting to worry me. Despite the fact that it only itches and doesn't hurt, I've seen enough Hunger Games to know that I can't trust anything in the arena. Whatever plant gave this rash to me might be an unnatural Gamemaker invention.

As I slog through the forest's newly formed winter wonderland, I wonder if I will need Capitol medicine to heal completely. I pop a few berries in my mouth during my musings. It's a good thing I picked as many berries as I could before the winter came. Although they're nearly frozen solid, they're still sweet on my tongue. I don't have many left, though. And I have a feeling that I won't come across any more. Not in this weather.

I loosely carry my crossbow in my left hand, still getting used to my prosthetic finger, especially now that it's stuffed into my newly-grown gloves. Given how cold it's gotten overnight, I may end up losing more from frostbite. I push the thought away as I stumble through the deep layer of immaculate snow.

As I take another step, I spot a line of disturbed snow ahead of me. Footprints.

I stop still in my tracks. If there's someone around, I need to disappear before they realize I'm here. Or… I could follow them.

I waddle over to the prints, trying to figure out how large the person's feet are. The face of the little girl from Eleven appears in my mind and I feel a jolt of shame and regret.

A strange shuffling noise suddenly reaches my ears. I quickly turn and look around, but

there is no movement in the forest. I turn back to the prints and realize with a start that they are pawprints, leading directly to a tree up ahead. The shuffling noses turn into a low growl.

I look up just in time to see the face of a huge brown bear snarling at me, claws digging into the branches. It roars loudly and hurls itself from its perch toward me.

I'm too terrified to make a noise. I turn tail and run as fast as I can. The snow hinders my movement, but I desperately dash through it. I can hear the bear's breath just behind my back. My foot catches on a stick and I topple into the snow. The bear overestimates its jump, landing a few feet past me. I grip my bow tight, jumping to my feet while the bear lumbers toward me, opening its maw in a terrifying roar. Its muzzle is covered in scars. A large chunk of fur is missing on its shoulder, which reveals the scar of a large puncture wound and its eyes have a strange red glow to them.

I lift my bow and take aim at the bear. It bares its teeth in a harrowing growl and begins to sprint toward me, kicking up snow. I let the arrow fly.

It imbeds itself into the creature's shoulder. The bear scrambles to a halt and lets out a yowl of pain. I swiftly reload my crossbow thanks to my prosthetic and try to remember my training. My fingers effortlessly slide into position as if the trainer was moving them for me. Just as the bear clambers onto its feet, the arrow finds its home in one of its glowing red eyes.

The bear lets out one last caterwaul. I watch it cautiously for a few more moments, but it lies still and lifeless.

My head falls back into the snow. I let out a deep breath, listening to my racing heart, fingers loosening around the crossbow. The leaves of the trees above me flutter peacefully in the wind.

After many long minutes, I pick myself up off the ground. The snow around the bear's corpse is sullied with blood, the body itself steaming in the cold. I plod over to the furry brown mound and yank out my arrows. Neither of them are broken. As I turn the arrows over in my hand, I abruptly remember the plaque that was in front of my bow at the feast. An image of a large bear.

I stare at the bear's carcass. No wonder it was so easy to take down. Only two arrows and the giant beast is dead in the snow.

Templesmith had said that the feast items could defeat some kind of beast in the arena and reveal some kind of resource. But there doesn't seem to be any food or water descending from the sky now that this creature is dead. As I stare up at the sky, I shiver in the sharp winter wind and huddle closer to the bear's remains. I glance down at it and the steam that's rising from the warm blood and into the freezing air. Perhaps my prize for killing this beast is a bit more gory and gross than I would have hoped. But life-saving nonetheless. I huddle closer to the body, ruminating over whether or not I should cut open its belly and shelter inside. I've seen tributes do similar things in past Games, I just never thought I would be in this position.

Raven Lavalée (17)- D7M

I carefully use a stick to lift up the head of a tiger's body. Its tongue lolls out of its mouth, its eyes half-open and staring at the cloudy sky. Tens of other stinking corpses litter the ground around the building. We had pulled them out of the marble building last night so that we could shelter inside from the snowstorm. They're already starting to smell and swell up like balloons.

Though it would be nice to have more clean drinking water, it's even nicer to have a roof over our heads while it's snowing. The snow has since stopped, the island now a serene snowy behemoth. I limp through the snow and up the stairs of the building. The water inside is nearly frozen now, and it still has a strange gray tint to it that makes me nervous. After watching the poison do its work on the tigers and lions and make them choke and convulse in obviously painful deaths, neither of us have dared to test it yet by taking a sip. At least we have a good amount of drinkable water that Flux managed to procure on her own.

I struggle to walk over to our campfire, next to which our bag of water is sitting. In training, they always impressed upon us that we should never eat snow or ice, since it will dehydrate us further. I gently poke the water bag, making sure it was still mostly liquid. I groan as I take a seat on the bare marble floor beside the fire and hold out my hands to the fire. Overlooking the little scene is the statue of the woman where Flux got her little vial of liquid.

Her vial now sits beside the fire as well, right next to our supply of roasted fish. I lean over to pick it up and examine it, before I'm overtaken with a bout of coughing. After a few minutes of hacking, I sit up and wipe the blood and phlegm off my hands with a groan.

"Still doing that, huh?"

I turn to see Flux standing behind me outside the building, holding a pair of fish in her hand and her fishing stick in the other.

I draw in a long breath, listening to it shuttering in my chest. "Uhh.. yeah."

She climbs up the stairs and throws her fish at my feet, then plops down to warm herself by the fire.

"More fish. Yay," I say, monotone.

Flux shrugs. "We should stock up before the water freezes solid."

"Find anything interesting?"

Flux points to the southern shore of the island. "Nothing but water over there," she says, then points to the north-east. "Shallow rocks over there. We won't be able to leave that way without destroying our raft."

"Leave?" I stare at her in confusion. "You really want to leave?"

She raises an eyebrow. "Not yet. But who knows what will happen in the future?"

I stare into the fire, shivering slightly and choking down another cough. "

"I think I've figured out the riddle," Flux says cheerily. "These Capitolite shits are pretentious, but once you strip away all the pointless shit, it just says that it's a cure."

I've also read and reread the riddle on the statue's arm. I've reached the same conclusion, but I didn't want to bring it up.

The cause of the curse

Is the flesh impure

And the liquid obscure

Is the curse cured

"We should just stay here," I say, changing the subject. "We have water and food and shelter."

"And rotting tiger bodies," Flux chirps.

I give her a pointed look. "I'm serious."

"So am I," she says, tone calcifying. "We can stay here as long as we want, but we'll have to leave eventually. Unless the Gamemakers want to shove everyone here for the final confrontation."

I try to force a cough back down my throat, but it spills over my lips along with some blood.

Flux leans over and pats me on the back. I don't want to tell her that it's getting harder and harder to breathe, and that some of my limbs have started feeling tingly and numb. And I don't think it's from the cold.

In the chilly air, my blood is hot against my palm. Flux helps me drink some water, then hands me the little vial of liquid. I look up at her quizzically. Her dark eyes stare into mine.

"Do you doubt my riddling skills? Unriddling? Is that even a word?"

I laugh feebly, looking away. "The riddling skills of someone who doesn't know the word for it?"

She's silent for a moment. "What's going on?"

I sigh. "Let's talk about something else." I push away the medicine.

"Stop being difficult," she says, starting to sound angry. When I don't answer, she growls under her breath. Her arms leave my shoulders. "You really want to fight right now? That's what you want?"

My body heaves with a sigh. "No, Flux. Please, I'm just tired. It's almost nightfall; we should get some rest."

I sense her standing and backing off. I recall her fury with Passion in training. I wouldn't want to be on the receiving end of that heat. I don't dare tell her that she should just keep the medicine for herself.

Luna Everett (12) -D11F

After over a day without food, I'm feeling even colder than before. I could barely keep myself from getting blown away last night during the blizzard, let alone keep warm. As the sun starts to set again, I dread the freezing temperatures that await me. Even with the gloves on my hands, my fingers are chilled to the bone, and my nose and ears are almost completely numb. I mindlessly walk through the snow, heading in a random direction. I think I'm still walking away from the Cornucopia, but it's difficult to tell at this point.

I reach up to play with the necklace that Jake gave me before I was taken to the Capitol. It feels like a lifetime ago. I glance up at the clouded, snowy sky. Scratch that. It's more like Jake is an entire world away from me. It never snows like this is Eleven, or gets this cold.

I take another deep step into the piles of white. A spider crawls toward me on its surface, its plump body heavy enough to sink a bit into the snow. Though the chilly weather has either killed or scared off most of the spiders, the larger ones seem unbothered. They also seem to be appearing more and more, and often follow me through the snow for an unknown reason. Maybe they're hoping that I'll freeze to death and they'll get an easy meal.

My stomach rumbles. The setting sun illuminates a strange lump of dark snow ahead of me. Without anywhere to stop for the night, I aimlessly change course to head straight toward it. Maybe it can provide some kind of shelter for the night.

I wish Thorn was here. I feel tears pluck at my eyelids, and I blink them away furiously. Thorn was tough. To honor his memory, I have to be tough myself.

The mound of snow ahead of me suddenly moves. I stop dead in my tracks and feel my heart start to pound. It moves again, this time displacing the snow around it. I realize with dread settling in my stomach that it isn't a pile of snow…

The shape turns toward me and I'm greeted with eight beady eyes, two large pincers shifting ceaselessly, long legs moving under the snow. Its color is a dark gray, somewhat camouflaged into the snow. Smaller spiders swarm over its abdomen and a few white eggs, the size of balls in Capitolite sports games, lie under its legs.

I let out a blood-curdling scream and turn tail to run the other direction. My short legs get caught in the snow, but I'm thankfully not close enough to the spider mutt for it to reach me. I sprint as fast as I can, even after the sun has completely set and I'm alone in the dark.

Every noise frightens me and every glint of moonlight off the snow reminds me of the spider's gleaming black eyes. I shiver, this time from revulsion and fear instead of just cold. I pant as I come to a stop, looking around to make sure that there are no spiders nearby. I sit slowly onto the snow, covering my face with my hands. If thorn were here, he wouldn't even be bothered by the whole situation. I can hear his sardonic voice in my head. Happy Hunger Games! I let out a half-laugh, half-sob, then wipe my eyes and take a deep breath. The Gamemakers will try to mock me with deadly mutts, but I won't be broken by them. I will stay strong like Thorn would want.

Obituaries:

9th) Marlowe Bahari (18)- D4F- killed by Blossom. Created by paperairline. Marlowe was another incredibly complicated and intriguing character. The perfect golden girl who was secretly self-hating and unhinged. Ultimately, her recklessness got her killed. No amount of training could make up for the issues that she dealt with. I will really miss writing her POVs since she had a unique perspective even for a Career. And the Capitol will also miss their gorgeous Four girl!

And so by the morning of Day Eleven, we have our final eight. Next chapter will be a Panem chapter in which the families of the Final Eight will be interviewed. Until then, everyone!

I also created a website for Ultraviolence! I created it so people can get a better idea of what the arena is supposed to look like. You can find the link on my profile. Just remove all the spaces in the url :)

A new killer has been added to our kill stats!

Kill Stats:

Most Kills:

Passion Mavros (17)- D1F- four kills: Sparrow, Alder, Pagani, and Thorn.

Tied for Second-Most Kills:

Leto Larston (18)- D2F- two kills: Rai and Volt

Marlowe Bahari (18)- D4F (dead)- two kills: Terra and Cyprian

Cyprian Clay (18)- D2M (dead)- two kills: Caiden and Jeremy

Faroud Pistris (18)- D4M (dead)- two kills: Dylan and Rylex

Tied for Third-Most Kills:

Blossom Urakaka (15)- D9F- one kill: Marlowe.

Pagani Chevy (16) (dead)- D6F- one kill: Callum.