I just wrote two POVs today so I'm pretty proud of myself.

As always, Zephyr belongs to Queztionz,Sakura belongs to SakuraDragomir, Jade belongs to The Boy Never Cried Again, and finally Aqua belongs to CharmedMilliE- Karry Master.

I hope all the other Americans have a good Thanksgiving next week, and everyone has a good rest of November.

Enjoy!

~ Meghan

Arena - Day IX

Zephyranthes Creed, 16, District 11

The ninth day is warmer.

If I keep my eyes shut, I could be almost be back in District 11. The birds, the hushed swish of wind in the trees, the warmth of the morning sunshine. I'd be getting up to go my shift at the fields before school, following my parents out the door. But then I hear a bird I don't recognize, and the smell of pine instead of freshly tilled soil, and familiarity melts away.

Besides. I don't felt like keeping my eyes closed now.

The new girl from 10 tried to volunteer to keep watch over night. Yeah, over my dead body. I wasn't about to turn my back to her. Kale decided he'd watch first, and I agreed to take second shift. Sakura had gone off to curl up under some bushes. But not before saying goodnight to Twila, who called goodnight from up in the tree across from mine.

Now, in the pale yellow sunrise, I can make out Sakura tucked under the bushes, using her backpack as a pillow.

I still don't trust her.

Everything was fine with just the tree of us. Now she's here, and I don't believe a word this girl says. "The Careers killed her. We got separated... I couldn't help her. I'm sorry." The look on her face was almost convincing, but there's something off.

Briony had allied with Sakura and hadn't told me about it. Briony and I had gotten along, I didn't even suspect she was hiding an alliance. She didn't have to tell me about it if she had made one, but I hadn't expected it. And then she ran off with Sakura into the woods during the bloodbath. A few days later, and Briony's face was in the sky. Bullshit she was killed by Careers.

If she had been, then they would've taunted me with it the day Aqua the boy from 2 chased me. They would've used it against me - just in case Briony and I had been close.

She was hiding something.

Maybe she secretly had something to with the pair from 12 dying? Maybe she hadn't been alone over in the meadow. Maybe they'd wandered over there and she'd decided she needed some supplies to fill that big backpack.

Kale clearly didn't think she was capable of killing. He should know better by know. If Twila can kill someone, anyone can. Sakura clearly isn't a complete idiot, though, so she would know she can't take us on by herself.

"Philosophizing?"

I startle at Kale's voice.

He laughs, the sound bouncing off the trees even when his voice is low. A week ago, I would've told him to shut up and be quiet. But if the Careers really did get barbecued... well, I haven't felt this calm in a while. "Jumpy. You wanna head back to sleep?"

I smirk. "Not likely. You're supposed to be sleeping anyway."

He sits up from the moss he always sleeps on now and stretches. "Man, I miss having an actual bed."

"You can always sleep in a tree like myself," I say. "It's not a bad idea. I'm a genius, you know."

"Ah, of course," Kale says, and cracks a smile I return.

"Seriously, you can go back to sleep," I say.

He shrugs. "Not sleeping well. I may as well get up, the sun'll be waking me in a bit anyway."

I glance down at the grass, where a little pink flower sits. It's clover, part of the fuzzy flowers that grow out of. Momma said that people used to think of them as weeds. That they still do in the Capitol. They don't care about the pollination or the honey it produces, how you can sauté them or make a salad. We can't ever eat the fruit and vegetables we grow, but we can always eat the clover. The Capitol doesn't care about that. Their loss.

I pick the pink flower and make a show of studying it. "Bad dreams?" They're easy to get in the arena, I only had nightmares the first couple nights here. But ever since I'm just so tired I don't dream anymore. Or I just don't remember. But Kale had a dream the other day that had him mumbling something like "Macy." I wasn't sure who it was, if she's even a real person, but considering he was saying her name again an hour ago - I can't help but be curious.

"Sort of," he answers, shrugging.

"You have siblings, right?"

"Mm-hm. Triplets."

"That's right," I say and twirl the flower. "Much younger, right?"

"Yeah. Four years old. Technically Abigail's the oldest, she loves to remind us, and then there's Aaren and Aiden," Kale says with a proud grin. "I think I was supposed to be an only child, they were a surprise. Like, times three."

We both laugh, and it feels good to let myself, I'd been starting to worry I'd forget what it felt like.

"Any friends?" I finally ask.

He runs a hand through his dark, curly mop of hair and picks out a leaf. A hazard of sleeping on the ground. He tosses the leaf in the air and watches as it flutters to the forest floor. "Uh yeah. My best friend. Mayciee."

"Oh," I say, and smirk again. "Is she the one who made your bracelet? Twila said one of your friends made your token."

"Yeah," Kale says, nodding. "We're just friends, though." His face has gone three shades pinker, but then his expression falls. "Actually... or, never mind."

"You can tell me," I say. I arch an eyebrow. "I've got time. It's not like I have somewhere to be."

He searches my face before finally leaning back against a tree trunk like me. "I had a nightmare. I hardly get them. But it was..." he pauses and then sighs. "Basically she was in the arena and I wasn't. I just had to watch." He closes his eyes, tilting his head back against the tree, and pressing his hands against his eyes. My eyes catch on the bracelet on his wrist. "I had to watch when..."

Kale doesn't finish his thought, but he doesn't have to. I know what he means. I've had enough nightmares about my sister getting chosen for the Games growing up. I think everyone has that nightmare.

Without thinking much about it, I take the necklace around my neck out from under my shirt. "My sister gave me this as my token."

Kale looks over at me, his eyes catching on the stone glinting in the sun. The surprise is so obvious on his face, and I remember another reason why I like Kale: he's genuine. He seems like somebody who would never lie to me. Someone who deserves my trust too.

He's someone I'd be friends with back home.

The thought makes my throat tighten the way it does before I cry. But crying in front of the cameras isn't an option.

I take a deep breath and try to smile. "It's just some rock she found in the orchards. She works in the trees. She took months carving it in her free time, trying to hide it from me, before making it a birthday present. Or, well, it was supposed to be a birthday present. She gave it to me early... after the reaping. The chain's from one of her necklaces."

"I remember you talking about her during your interview," Kale says softly. "She's named after a flower, right?"

"Rose," I say.

Kale nods. "It's a beautiful name."

I nod, watching as the stone sun swings from my fingers. "When I got chosen, I stood there on the stage as they were picking on the girl, and I threatened the universe that if she was picked, there'd be hell to pay." I laugh and I'm not sure if I actually find it funny or not. "Who am I to try to make demands with the universe? But she wasn't reaped. At least not until this year. That's the horrible part isn't it? You feel relieved they weren't chosen this time around but you can't even relax because next year's coming."

"She'll grow out of age for the Games," Kale says gently.

"And then my kids will be in it," I say, then I scoff. "Actually, I'm never having kids. But maybe Rose will. And then I'll have to worry all over again."

We're both silent.

What is there to say? We were both the unlucky ones. I can tell from how Kale has talked about his home, and how healthy he was at the reaping, that he's been raised with money. He probably wasn't starving in District 8 or even having to do manual labor. He still ended up here though.

A twig snaps.

Kale and I both tense, but it's just Sakura stirring under the stupid bush.

Tossing me a grin, Kale almost laughs. "Who's the jumpy one now?"

I want to smile back but instead I shove the stone necklace back under my shirt as Sakura groggily turns to us, eyes bleary with sleep.

She stretches, mumbling a hello, and roots around in her bag. She pulls out a handful of mint leaves and starts chewing them. She spits them out unceremoniously like Hunger Games toothpaste. I almost wish I'd thought of that myself instead of chewing on pine bark every morning and have to fish splinters out from my teeth.

"You're both up early," she says and yawns.

"I'm keeping watch," I say simply. "Surprised no one even found you sleeping under stuff. Back home, sometimes there'd a fox that snuck into the orchard and tried to sleep in a hole. Whenever we'd find one, well, do you know hard it is to skin a fox?"

Kale tosses me a look.

I shrug. "Just a joke."

"Funny," Sakura deadpans. She stands up and starts stretching her limbs one by one. Then she gets down on the ground and goes through her backpack, sorting out each of the meager items. Most of its just knives, which doesn't make me feel better.

"We didn't steal anything from you," I say.

Sakura doesn't look up. "It's what I do every morning."

I shake my head, looking away. A bead of sweat runs down my forehead. For a moment, my mind flashes to my water skin half full. I already allowed myself two sips when I woke up for watch, but it's tempting to drink more. The Gamemakers are definitely turning up the damn heat, and no matter how thirsty I am, I'm not about to make a fool of myself for the Capitol.

I turn my thoughts away from water to the clover flower still in my left hand.

"Want a clover salad for breakfast?" I look up. Kale and Sakura both glance at me. I make a point of smiling at Kale. "It doesn't taste great, but it's edible. We can save the rabbit leftovers from yesterday for lunch."

"Did somebody say lunch?"

A branch rustles above us and then Twila makes her way down the tree, jumping the last three feet. She puts her hands on her stomach. "I'm ready to eat."

"We're talking about breakfast," Sakura says and spares a smile for Twila.

I open my mouth but another voices echoes around the arena: Claudius Templesmith.

"Attention tributes. Congratulations on those of you remaining, you have fought hard to make it this far into the Games. To celebrate, you are invited to a feast. It will take place at dusk tomorrow. Before you consider not coming, you'll find that the feast will supply you with much needed water and food. For some of you, this will be your last chance. Choose wisely."

And then the announcement is gone.

Jade Love, 17, District 1

I turn to Zircon without hesitation. "We're going."

He watches me for a second. The sound of the announcement still reverberates in my head, and it's like he's hearing it over again in his too.

"We don't have as many weapons as we used to," Zircon finally says somberly. "Only a few daggers, Jade."

"So what?" I snap. It comes out harsher than I meant, but he doesn't flinch.

Zircon sighs, running a hand through his hair. He tugs at the roots and I watch as his jaw works before he answers. "It's not a good setup for a fight-"

"You're gonna let some outer district tributes scare you away?"

My ally gives me a look somewhere between derisive and tired. "Some outer district tribute? You mean the tributes who killed Shaiden and burnt our camp down?"

I glare at him.

I want to spit out an answer, slam his face into the golden horn, shove him to the ground until he realizes I'm right. But the cameras are watching - the bastard sponsors who haven't sent us more than burn cream are here - and what little shard of district loyalty we have might just reward us if we do well enough at the feast. Besides, I can feel the hunger in my stomach. I've been hearing Zircon's stomach growling. The days I spent fasting while training, to prepare for this exact situation without food, still didn't prepare me enough. I didn't expect the fear of not having enough to eat or drink to settle so deeply.

Standing up, I smooth my clothes off and tighten my boot laces. When I reach for the container of burn cream, Zircon speaks up.

"What are you doing?" he mutters.

"I'm leaving," I say. "You don't want to listen to me, then fine. I think it's about time we went our separate ways. Everybody else has."

"You're not serious," he scoffs.

I pick up two of the daggers I'd spent hours cleaning the ash off of and put them in my belt. "Good luck surviving without any supplies tomorrow."

I've walked ten steps before I hear him stand up behind me.

"Wait."

I smile at the horizon, at the cameras, and wipe it off my face before turning around. "What?"

He sighs again before shrugging. "I'll go. We'll go. Together."

"Together," I say, twisting my lips in a mocking grin. "What a sweet word."

Zircon rolls his eyes. "I'm serious. I don't feel like having you for an enemy, Jade. I just..." He takes a breath, and I'm surprised at how shaky it is, the way he looks at me with something almost fearful. But I don't think I've ever seen Zircon look afraid in my life. Not even when he ran into the cornucopia or burst out of the flames of our camp.

"I want to survive past tomorrow," he says, so quietly the wind almost steals his words away before I hear them.

I imagine looking up at Zircon's face tomorrow night in the sky, sat alone under the golden horn. I imagine the boy from District 8 - the who probably killed Shaiden - stabbing Zircon through the heart like I killed the rat from 12. I imagine myself standing over Zircon's corpse with a bloodied knife in my hands.

"I won't happen," I say softly. I don't even know if it's to myself or to him. "We'll make it."

"I plan on it," he says.

Lifting my chin, I speak to us and the cameras. "It's time District One had another victor."

He opens his mouth to respond but his eyes snag on something up above my head. When I turn to look, the sun blinds my vision, dazzling and searing. I shield my eyes, drawing a dagger with one hand. Silver glints in the sky. My heart leaps as it floats towards us, down, down, down, before I reach out my arms and the parachute lands carefully in my hands. The silvery material falls beneath it, floating in the breeze.

"Sponsor gift," Zircon says in amazement. He grins, and for a moment he looks so young, like he's just opened a birthday present, a moment of pure delight.

I hand the gray box over to him. "Open it."

Zircon raises and eyebrow questioningly, and I nod. He sets it down, pulling the lid off and lifting out two covered dishes of food. Inside are even several pieces of fruit. When he lifts the covers off the dishes, the smell of fragrant rosemary chicken and steaming paprika soup floats up to my nose.

I swallow, resisting the urge to grab one of the dishes and start eating immediately.

"Is there any water?" I ask.

Zircon glances in the box again before he shakes his head.

Even the fruit aren't the kinds we can get juice from. No oranges or berries, just apples and bananas. Neither of us have to say it aloud to guess that the Gamemakers have put a ban on water. If we had been able to get some, Jan and Emerald would have sent it. But it's better - much better - than nothing.

Zircon and I take the food, and walk through the grass. The sun is warm on my neck and arms, even warmer than yesterday, but I don't mind the sweat. It reminds me of training outside back home during the summer, listening to the sound of the miners going to the gem mines and kids laughing as they run to school. We sit down on a podium. The dark metal is hot from the sunshine, and I don't remember who stood here before the bloodbath or if they're alive now, but it feels almost like a picnic.

"Wonder why we got this," Zircon says, eating some his chicken.

"Because we deserved it," I answer. I start on the soup, savoring every little bite, even though it's torture to not just gulp it all down. How did the tributes from 10 and 12 manage in the Training Center with all those feasts in front of them? I almost feel bad for them. Almost.

Zircon laughs out of nowhere. "This almost tastes just like my mom's cooking." He beams at the dish in his hands as he eats more of the chicken. "She always makes it on Mondays. She usually has to yell for me come downstairs. I always got back from training right before, and wanted a few minutes to read. She says I love books more than food."

"You read?" I say, not bothering to hide my surprise.

That just makes Zircon laugh harder. I frown at him for a moment, but the gleam in his eye even makes me smile.

"Yeah," he says. "I read."

I shrug. "I mean, I knew you were smart, you always got great grades in strategy class, but I didn't realize it was a hobby."

"Once upon a time," he says. He looks at his food but doesn't eat this time. "I used to want to be a teacher. Before I got accepted to the Academy, I mean." He looks over at me. "What about you?"

My eyes follow an insect flying along the grass, too far to tell what it is, before I answer. "I've only ever wanted this. I haven't ever thought of anything else. It was just... out of the question." I look up at the sky. "Maybe you can teach as your pet project if you're victor."

"If?" Zircon teases, the familiar playfulness coming back to his voice. "I think you mean when."

"I dunno, you've got some pretty steep competition," I say, and give him a half-smile.

Zircon watches me for a moment before he speaks. "You know, if I had to be in the arena with anyone, it's good it's you. I don't think I'd have trusted anyone else this far."

"What makes you think you can trust me?"

"You would've killed me already if I couldn't."

"Fair point. I trust you too, for what it's worth. As much as anyone can trust somebody here."

"Fair point."

We're both quiet as we finish our meals and listen to the hum of the bugs. I never knew nature was this loud. District 1 is so urban and marble that I never really considered how much noise the forest makes. It's not a bad backdrop to lunch, though. Once the plates are clean, we leave them on the podium and just sit there without speaking. I'm not sure what time it is until I finally speak.

"A family. That's what I've always wanted."

Zircon turns to me, and he's quiet as he lets me talk.

"I have family, sure, but I've always thought about one day when I'm older. I want a wife. I want a house full of kids. I don't really care if any of them train to be victors, I just want to wake up to their voices and clean up messes and tell bedtime stories. That's what I want."

"Bedtime stories?" Zircon says teasingly. "You telling bedtime stories?"

I laugh - actually laugh. "Believe it or not, I like books too. I mean, not as much you, but I can appreciate them. It just... sounds nice. Reading to my kids one day."

"It sounds nice," Zircon says, and there isn't any joking to it. It sounds like the truth.

A throbbing in my legs pulls me from the pastoral daydreams. I wince, and Zircon notices. I wave him away before he can speak and we make our way across the grassy field to the horn. I grit my teeth and ignore the pain shooting down my ankles. When we got to our camp, I sit down and rub some of the burn ointment into my leg. The relief is almost immediate, and I lay back into the cool shade.

"We need a plan for tomorrow," Zircon says. He leans against the inside of the cornucopia.

I flick my fingers in the air. "The plan is to kill everyone we can."

"I'm serious, Jade. Let's be honest, neither of us are in the best condition right now. I don't want that to become a blind side because we won't admit it. We don't know what condition the others are in."

I want to argue, but I know he's right. Not that I'd ever say that out loud. "Alright, then I don't think splitting up is a good idea. We shouldn't try to take on two different people at once."

"What are we going to do about the lovebirds?" Zircon asks.

I snort. "Lovebirds don't have the best track record in here. They should take notes from the pair from Twelve." I grin at the roof of the horn. "I say let's take Camas out first. Aqua will probably be cowering behind him the whole time anyway."

"And the guy from Eight? The one from Eleven? They're allied together," Zircon adds.

"Last we saw," I say. "Hopefully they've split up now. The one from Eleven scored higher, but the one from Eight has that sword. I think he should be our priority. I don't feel like playing around with a melee weapon in the mix."

"The others might have a strategy too," Zircon says. "They might have some game they're gonna play at too. We need to be ready."

I close my eyes, basking in the feeling of a full stomach and cool shade. "Then game on."

Sakura Dragomir, 14, District 10

The others started strategizing pretty quickly.

We sit in a circle, each of us like the points of a compass, and I dig my fingers into the soil. It's cool and soft, even though it's getting under my fingernails. They're still flecked with sparkly red paint. But the dragon design chipped off days ago. Only the little flakes of glitter exist to remind me of the night of the interview. The stage lights had been so bright, and my heart had been beating so fast. I'd tried my hardest to seem unassuming, sympathetic, something soft that the audience could fawn over.

What did they think of me now?

The soft-spoken girl from the interview was long since dead. I didn't feel guilty for burying her.

"Twila, you'll stay here and guard our camp," Kale says.

The girl gives him an annoyed glance, eyebrows puckered and mouth in a frown. "I want to help."

"You will be helping," Kale assures gently, "by staying safe here. Keeping our things safe."

I watch as she folds her arms. They aren't wrong. Someone as young and small as her at the feast? It would almost be like an invitation to the more aggressive tributes to rack up another kill. At best, she'd be useless and get out of it with a few scrapes. At worst, she'd be in the way, getting herself and us killed in the meantime.

"Zephyr and I will go together," Kale says. He wipes sweat off his forehead, and then takes a stick and draws a lumpy horn in the dirt, a pretty sucky rendition of the cornucopia. He points at the dirt. "I'll guard him while he runs to fill a bag with food and water-"

"Why are we planning this now?"

He pauses, and they all look over at me.

I shrug. "The feast isn't until tomorrow at sundown. Isn't this a little preemptive?" The word feels big, one of the fancy ones I remember from school, and I hope it'll make them listen. The feast changes things. I had joined their alliance before their announcement, and now the idea of sharing the precious food and water isn't one I like the idea of. Still, having a group to go into the fray is much better than facing the other tributes alone.

"You're welcome to leave if you want to," Zephyr says dryly.

"Zephyr," Twila scolds in a whisper, as if we aren't all sitting together.

The boy from 11 waves at the dirt. His dark shaggy hair hangs in front of one of his eyes, but I can see the look of pure defiance in them. "I had plans and this crap, but it isn't a choice right now. If you have a better idea, Ten, we're all ears."

When I stumbled on the group yesterday evening, my first instinct was to bolt. It was too many people to fight. But then I saw Twila, and knew immediately that neither of these guys - no matter how much they might try to intimidate - weren't cold-blooded killerers. In self-defense, yes, but they weren't going to be the ones to attack. No one capable of that would risk their lives protecting such a small kid. I still hadn't expected Zephyr to be this resistant, though.

I hold out my hand, not bothering to wipe the dirt off my fingers, and Kale gives me the stick. "There's how many tributes left? Ten? That makes six others aside from us. We're the biggest alliance in the arena at the moment. There's the pair from One, and the boy from Two..." I write their district numbers in the dirt.

"And the girl from Four," Twila pipes up. "The boy from Seven."

"All Careers," I say. "I can't remember the one tribute left."

Zephyr shrugs, and Kale looks as puzzled as Twila. Whatever. If we can't remember whoever it is, then they aren't a threat enough to be on my radar.

"We're going up against five experienced killers," I say.

The air seems to get thicker in the silence that follows. The arena feels even hotter than it's been today, and I peel off my jacket, tying it around it my waist. Is it nerves? Imaging the feast abstractly, imagining all the warm food and cold water... it was enough to distract me. But now the idea of five older tributes with blood on their weapons makes it bigger, looming until heart skips a beat.

"I'll come with you both," I say to the two boys across from me.

They speak at the same time.

"You don't have to," Kale says.

"Not my problem," Zephyr says.

I sigh in exasperation. "They have no idea we're allies. We have an advantage. We know that the Career Pack is in fragments now, but they won't expect us three to work together."

Zephyr frowns, staring me straight in the eyes. I stare back, forcing myself not to break his gaze.

"She's not wrong," Kale finally relents.

"It's smart," Twila chirps. She smiles toothily at me.

Zephyr finally looks away. "If she wants to risk it, be my guest. But just so you know, Sakura, I'm not going to stop to save you if something happens."

"You won't have to," I say, my voice harder than I expected.

We're all quiet for a few moments before Twila claps her hands once. "So..." she says slowly, turning to me. "Want to help me pick some stuff for dinner? We can check the traps too."

I smile at her, and nod. I can feel Zephyr glance at me, but I ignore him. "Sounds nice."

We leave Kale and Zephyr, and head towards the nearby patches of gooseberries that they showed me yesterday. I'm not the biggest fan of the fruit, but it's better than nothing. We stop at the bushes and start pulling the pale berries off the leafy branches, filling out jackets with them.

"I can't wait until I don't have to forage for my dinner," Twila laughs. It peters off. "I mean... if I get out of the Games, I mean."

"You'll have a feast tomorrow night," I say simply. I give her a small smile when she peers up at me, brown eyes big and hopeful.

She shakes her head and sends her curls bouncing. "I wish they'd let me help tomorrow. I know I'm not as fast as Zephyr or as strong as Kale, but I'm not useless."

"Of course not. But it'll be dangerous."

"Everything here has been dangerous."

I tilt my head, conceding the point. "It's just... different tomorrow."

"Maybe we don't even have to do it," Twila says. She runs a gooseberry between her palms. "I mean... maybe something will happen and we'll get more water later."

"It hasn't rained in the arena once," I say, "and I don't think that's about to change."

Once we finish picking the berries, we check the snares. Today is a lucky one. The first snare has a squirrel, and the second has a large rabbit.

"Looks like a good dinner," I say. The thought of roasting meat makes my mouth water.

"I used to want a pet rabbit," Twila says softly. She stares at the dead animal.

I carry both of the catches to our campsite.

Kale is thrilled by what their snares caught, and even Zephyr manages to not sneer at me. I sit down in the grass, pulling out of my knives, and start skinning the squirrel. Being in the arena has made me have more sympathy for my older brother and his work in the slaughterhouses. The smell of blood and raw meat used to bother me ever time Derek walked inside, but now all I can think about is how it means I'm about to not feel hungry.

"You're not bad at that," Kale says and I start on the rabbit. "Pick it up quick at the Training Center."

"No," I say, not taking my eyes off my work. "My brother works on the slaughter detail. Sometimes he'd bring home unwanted meat and skin it for us in the kitchen. He taught me how."

Kale nods. "Right, District Ten. Seems much more practical here than sewing cloth."

I peer up at him. He has a smile on his face like he expected me to laugh. "Yeah," I agree, and return to the rabbit.

"I'm gonna go find some roots or something," Zephyr says. He pulls his backpack on and waves to Twila, heading off into the forest.

"Did I say something?" I mumble.

"Ignore him," Twila says. "He just woke up on the wrong side of the sleeping bag."

I nod, and tap my knife on my knee. "I just figured he had a temper. I mean after what Briony said, at least. My eldest brother gets heated sometimes too-"

"Briony?" Kale asks, bemused.

"The girl from Eleven. His district partner," I say. "She was my ally. She told me that Zephyr had a bunch of run-ins with the Peacekeepers back in Eleven. Got whipped a lot, but she said that was a mercy compared to execution. Maybe what he did wasn't so bad."

Kale shakes his head, blinking his green eyes quickly. "I'm confused. This is Zephyr you're talking about? Are you sure she wasn't thinking of someone else?"

I tilt my head an innocently as I can manage. Kale's not the brightest tribute here, is here? But he's playing into this so well. "What? He didn't tell you guys?"

Twila and Kale exchange a confused look.

"Weird." I finish skinning the rabbit and lay its pelt on a rock, stroking the soft tawny fur. "I thought he'd mention something like that. You guys seem close."

Kale peers at me before swallowing. "I'll start rationing our water for dinner." He walks away, turning his back on me as he starts sorting through their supplies.

When Zephyr gets back, I'm starting to set up the fire. I had missed having that warmth at night, even if the arena hadn't been frigid, just to stave off the chill and darkness. I organize the rocks in a circle for it, and watch as Zephyr pours a small pile of roots nearby.

"Hey, I was thinking maybe I can take the sword tomorrow, Stormes," Zephyr says. He tosses a grin at Kale, clearly joking around, trying to lighten the quiet that he found us in.

Kale gives a half-hearted laugh. "Sure. Yeah. Sounds good."

Zephyr's brows knit, and he turns away. "Just kidding."

I sit back on my heels and bite back a smile. How much better would things be if I could have Kale and Twila as allies without Zephyr constantly glaring at me? Kale would be good protection and Twila isn't a threat. I even like talking to her so far, it's distracting and she seems sweet. Both of them have to die eventually, but having them as allies helps my chances in an arena filled with just Careers otherwise. I just hadn't expected Zephyr to be so... protective.

My eyes drift to my backpack.

I stand up, stretching my legs and walk over casually. Poured into one of the inside pockets where I left them, the brown speckled castor beans sit patiently. What was it again? Only eight beans are enough to kill someone? I pull out my water bottle like that's what I had been looking for, and glance at Zephyr over my shoulder. He sits by a tree stump, sorting through a first aid kit. His sleeves are rolled up, exposing a few scars in the shape of whip lashes.

My eyes catch Kale peeking over him, a confused expression on his face.

When I turn, Twila sits nearby, watching me.

When she offers me a smile, I smile back.

Aqua Marie, 15, District 4

My stomach hurts.

I try ignore the pain as we gather watercress and taro from the riverbed. After the water receded, it took most of the fish with it. We were able to fry one beached trout I found last night, but today most of food is made up of the freshwater plants exposed from the lack of water. They're easy to pluck from the colorful stones. But they aren't filling.

All those times I complained of eating too much back home are laughable now. I used to hate my daily protein intake quota. It was necessary for training, but now I'm unused to having no food in me.

"We're going to take half of the food at the feast," Camas says. He takes his handfuls of taro to the riverbank. "I bet Jade and Zircon are starving. Probably Mizell too if they aren't planning on killing him soon. They'll be weaker."

"We're going after them?" I say, standing up straight.

Camas shrugs. "If they get in the way. They aren't the priority. The guy-"

"The guy from Eight and the guy from Eleven," I parrot before he can, and bite back a sigh. "Yeah, I know."

"You don't sound excited."

"I'm just not sure if it's a good idea."

Camas knits his brows, cocking his head. "So... what? You don't think we should go after those two, but you also don't want to go after our dear, old friends?"

"I didn't say that," I mutter. I bend down and gather up the last taro I can see, shaking the soil off it.

"Who would you go after, then?" Camas asks.

No one. I know that, if I were alone, I would do my best to plan around the others. It's obvious the Gamemakers are bored - or the crowd is - and this is their attempt to stir up some entertainment. They want to get us down to the Final Eight tributes. That's always when the betting starts to really heat up, but even that doesn't compare to when there's only three or four tributes. Deciding to not show up at the feast would be a mistake. But I can't say that.

"The girl from Three," I finally say, not really thinking about it before the words tumble out of my mouth.

Camas watches me a for a moment, I can tell my answer has taken him off guard. "Her? I haven't even seen her since the cornucopia. She could be lying half-dead somewhere."

"She scored a nine in training," I say. "Same as Jade."

"Higher than you," Camas says.

I shoot him a glare and he offers a half-smile as if in apology.

"She got a nine and yet she's done nothing," Camas says.

I shrug. "We don't really know that. She could be allied with that girl from District Ten. We haven't seen her either."

"But she only got like a four or five in training. She's not a concern."

"She's made it this far," I say. I walk over to Camas and set the watercress and taro with his food. When I stand up, I meet his gaze. "She's outlasted tributes who scored higher."

I can't imagine what the audience is thinking right now. I hate them for watching, for betting, but mostly for knowing everything I don't. They know exactly where everyone is and what supplies they have. For all I know, Camas and I could some of the worst-off tributes. Maybe the others have had even more sponsor support. They're all probably preparing for the feast right now, and planning a strategy. I can't stand that uncertainty, that unfairness.

Camas finally huffs. "Well, even if they are allied together or whatever, we're the ones they're scared of. I mean, they don't know what happened with the fire. For all they know, we're still armed to the teeth. We're lethal no matter what."

"Maybe this is just temporary," I finally say. I look down at my hands, and examine the dirt underneath my nails. "Maybe the Gamemakers will give the water back."

We both know it's just wishful thinking. But I wish with everything I'm wrong.

"Thought you'd be excited for a bit of a fight," Camas says. He finally sits down. "Another chance to show off your skills against some outer district fodder."

"These other tributes aren't stupid," I say, and don't realize I've basically spit the words out until Camas raises an eyebrow. I swallow and try to relax my shoulders, evening out my voice. "Camas, this is like the bloodbath. These other tributes have been here just as long as we have now, and they've had to survive without all the supplies we had."

"So you think they're better than us?" Camas challenges.

I roll my eyes. "What I mean is that they're most desperate and more used to this now. It's a vulnerable spot in our armor. They've survived this long."

Camas stares at me for a moment before picking up a pebble and tossing it into the empty riverbed. It clacks against the other stones. "Because of pure luck. We should've killed that pair from Eight before. They weren't supposed to last this long. At least one of them needs to die tomorrow."

We're both quiet after that.

I sit beside him and we eat the food we've foraged. The watercress doesn't taste like much, but there was so much of it we each eat several batches. The taro is something that I'd only learned about in the training center, and I'm surprised with how the skin tastes almost sweet. Back home, the idea of eating something I had to scrub the dirt off of would've disgusted me. Now I'm just happy to have something.

There have been Games in the past where I watched tributes starve to death, especially with the frozen or desert arenas. Those years are always particularly brutal. I'd been hoping for a coastal arena when I volunteered at the reaping. The 55th Hunger Games were like that, set on a sandy coast with dunes and sandbars. The victor was from District 4, no doubt because of the edge he had over the others.

For a moment, a wave of homesickness washes over me strong, I could almost imagine drowning in it.

I want the smell of the salty air. I want to hear the seagulls. I want to hear the surf crashing on the sand. I want to hear the sound of the fish market on sunny mornings. I want to feel the burning sun on my face. I want to swim in the ocean and taste the brine on my lips.

I want to go home.

And the only way out is for everyone else to be dead.

"Tell me something about home," I blurt.

"What?" Camas says through a mouthful of watercress.

I need something to distract me, to know I'm not the only one who remembers a world outside of the arena. "Tell me about home."

"Oh, uh, okay," he pauses, thinking for a moment. I don't look over at him, I just keep my eyes on the riverbank and imagine the water flowing back through it, touching the cool surface with my fingertips. "Well. It's pretty gray. The quarries are outside of the city, and the factories are over there. You can hear them at night sometimes-"

"No, not District Two," I interrupt. "I mean home."

He's quiet. And then, "sometimes I don't even think about it. I spent so much training in the Academy that started to feel more like home. You know?"

I don't. But I nod anyway.

"Most of my friends are in the Academy anyway. They're basically my family. They all came to the Justice Building after I volunteered and we just basically partied for a half hour. We said we'll throw an even bigger one when I get back. I've never really thought about going back to my parents' house. I mean, I guess I've just started to imagine the Victor's Village as my home."

The Victor's Village. I hadn't even considered that. The idea of having to move into one of those too-big stone houses, sequestered on a private beach back in 4, sounds horrible. I'd miss my creaky bed and having the noisy harbor so close.

Did Isaac?

The question pops in my brain so fast, it almost doesn't feel like mine. Like somehow the Capitol shoved the thought in my brain. Maybe one day they'll able to do that, like some gimmick one day for a future Quarter Quell. But this thought is mine.

What did he want? I never really knew him in school, and I don't know his family. Did he imagine himself in the Victor's Village? Or was he more occupied with the moment of victory, getting his crown? I don't know. I never asked.

I do know that I'll remember how it felt to kill him.

It was easier than I expected. He had trained his whole life, he'd been chosen by the Academy, all that just for a sharpened stick to end it all. I spent hours that night scrubbing his blood from my boots where it had splattered on me, only once I knew Camas was asleep. I forced myself to look at his photo in the sky, and I tried to tell myself it was for the boy from 10 he'd killed, for Jacob and Zoe. But I knew that wasn't true.

What was it I had said to him on the train?

"We both know you won't make it out alive."

I think he really thought he would kill me by the end of this.

Did Miss Amphrite think I did the right thing? My mentor had hated us arguing, she knew better than anybody else that only one person comes out of the arena. She did kill the boy from 4 in her Games after all. It's happened plenty of times before, and it probably sent the sponsors into a betting frenzy.

I bury my head between my knees. I want to get rid of the image of the sponsors in my head. I want to get rid of feeling of killing Isaac.

"Tired?" Isaac asks.

I look up, blinking slowly, trying to assuage the burning in my eyes. For the first time, I notice the setting sun painting everything orange and pink. At this time tomorrow, the feast will be happening.

Isaac?

I snap my head to Camas. I'd heard Isaac's voice, but the boy form 2 sits beside me instead. The moment sets my heart in a panic, beating so hard I can almost hear it. I clear my throat, making a show of stretching my arms. "Yeah. We'll want to be rested well for tomorrow."

"We'll find some rocks or sticks tomorrow for weapons," Camas says - and it sounds like him this time.

I never thought I'd feel so happy to hear his voice.