District 6: Lincoln Blitz (16) Pov-

Shivering, I slip my sleeping bag off and turn it inside out before wiggling back inside. Now that the side that reflects heat is touching my body I should be able to keep warm until morning. It's incredible how much the temperature of the forest has changed from day to night. Two hours ago I can swear it was twenty degrees warmer than it is now.

After a good half hour of staring at the stars, I roll out of my sleeping bag. No use just lying around pointlessly when I could be doing work.

I reach into my pack and pull out all of the supplies I've managed to grab from the cornucopia: two rolls of bread wrapped in a thick plaid napkin, a bottle of green liquid labeled "antidote" and a coil of wire.

Time to put my skills to the test. Ever since escaping the bloodbath this morning I've been deliberating whether or not to build snares. I've build no shortage of snares throughout my orphanhood back in 6. Whenever the baker remembers to lock his windows they're the number one way to get food.

But on the other hand, that route will be extremely dangerous. In past Hunger Games, it's common for outliers to go completely unnoticed by careers because they hide in time to be passed by. If a career spots my snares, they'll know they're not alone in that area of the arena for sure.

They'll attack, or call for reinforcements, or…

No use thinking about it right now. I'm not dead yet.

Trying not to shake like a leaf in the bitter night chill, I reach into my pack and pull out the coil of wire. There are a lot of different snare designs, but I end up deciding to go for the simplest one. It's not particularly efficient, but I have a lot of wire so I'll be able to build more.

After a few seconds of searching, I find a sturdy stick shaped like an uppercase Y and plant it into the earth, packing the soil around it to keep it sturdy. I put both hands on my roll of wire and make a small loop at the end. I cut off a piece about three feet long and pass the other end through the loop. The result is an O-shape that will tighten whenever pressure is put on it; the perfect way to catch unsuspecting arms and legs.

By the time I finish assembling a second snare, my eyelids feel like they're being dragged downward by invisible bowling balls. I can finish a few more in the morning. Getting a good night's rest is more important. I squirm into my inside-out sleeping bag, washed over by the forest sounds that have always brought me comfort on nights back in 6 when my pals and I had to sleep in some pretty weird places to keep from being found. In no time, a dark wave of sleep washes over me, dragging away my thoughts one by one until my senses cease to exist.

District 2: Jaehaera Blackfyre (17) Pov-

Declan moves quietly over the foliage at my side, our shadows growing longer and longer in front of us as the sun grows closer and closer to the horizon.

"It's getting chilly," Declan remarks, crossing his arms as if to maintain precious body heat.

I let out a swift breath and watch it fog up in the air in front of me. He's right. I'm not the best at telling temperature, but by the feel of the air it must be about fifty degrees, give or take a few.

In the end I just nod in acknowledgement.

"So… meaning… when are we gonna set up camp?"

I turn to the right, making eye contact with him. Really, I can't even call it eye contact; it's already so dark I can't see his eyes as anything but glowing dots that only stand out slightly against the backdrop of the misty forest.

He takes this as the yes I'm implying, and in moments we're both kneeling down on the ground unpacking the tent we brought with us. Ever since I saw the other careers, saw that I'd only have Nero and Declan and that stupid Sangria to fight by my side in the games, I've just felt so mad! Ever since I was a little girl I've had dreams of being a pack leader. Giving orders to four or five other tributes like real District 2 careers, and running headfirst into the finale to beat down my final competitor. But this year's pack is so disconnected and so out-of-the-ordinary, I wouldn't even call it a pack. We have three members, and we have twelve outliers to kill. I know there have been worse years, but it's hard not to be just a little peeved when the vision I've had in my head for nearly a decade has been shattered into a million tiny pieces.

I can only imagine what Rhaenys is thinking back home in 2. She must be laughing her head off at me—me, the strongest tribute in the games, setting up a tent two miles away from the horn with only one other tribute to quote-unquote "lead"? I must look pathetic.

"That screws in the other way!" I shout to Declan, who looks to be struggling with fitting one of the legs into the frame of the tent.

"Sorry. Just… intentionally assembling the legs incorrectly, over a cup of tea, you know, silly me…"

It's about five minutes before we have the whole thing fully assembled. Declan and I walk in circles around it, inspecting every facet to make sure there aren't any disconnected parts. Once we're sure it's properly assembled, we crawl inside.

Declan slides out of his pack and pulls out the two inflatable plastic mattresses. Since we don't have a pump, we have to blow them up with our mouths, which is a pain, but we finish quickly enough.

I volunteer for the first shift, staring at the stars as the 1 boy's soft snores rise behind me. Can you really blame a girl for being grumpy when all she has is a wad of broken dreams and a cold tent with two inflatable mattresses?

District 5: Adelaide Hampton (16) Pov-

I plant the shovel firmly into the ground and then press it down against the ground like a wedge, tugging out the scoop of soil. I toss it to the right, and it makes a slight humming sound as it flutters down onto the foliage.

One scoop down, Snow-knows-how-many left.

I'm currently at what is probably the most ambitious project of my life. In theory, I'm attempting to dig a hole six or so feet deep. Then I can line foliage over it to hide it from view. If a tribute steps on the leaves and falls inside the trap, they'd be, well, trapped.

Of course, the hole won't be so deep they'd be stuck inside forever. I guess their screams would alert me and I could rush to the scene to polish them off… like a spider to her web.

The reason I'm starting the project at night is that doing it in the daytime is extremely risky. If I want the trap to have any sort of real use, it has to be built in an area that lots of tributes will probably pass through. And if a stronger tribute passes by me during the daytime, I'll end up with a lot more trouble than I bargained for. Sure, I'll have my blowpipe, but I'll be disoriented and my odds of escaping that skirmish would be slim to none.

So I resolve to get most of my work done in the nighttime when less tributes will be about. Turns out, the lack of other tributes isn't the only perk; by the time night has fallen, I can see my breath in front of me. I have to keep moving about to stay warm. The cold motivates me to get work done.

I'd estimate about an hour passes before I've made the hole three feet deep. The thing is, as the hole gets deeper and deeper the odds of a cave-in increases exponentially. If the trap caved in on me, I could be suffocated in moments.

I head over to a nearby tree and tear off several strips of bark. I end up wedging them into the edges of the hole and then stacking more strips between them, creating a sort of "wall". It won't be permanent, but it's better than nothing for the time being.

I only go to sleep when the hole hits four feet deep. In 5 we always called that the tipping point; beyond four feet deep, a shovel becomes useless and one has to manually claw out the dirt in tiny pieces.

Unfortunately, I haven't found any streams or rivers, and I'm not willing to waste a single drop of my precious water supply, so I can't wash the dirt off of my hands. Smeared pretty much head-to-toe with grime, I slide down against a nearby tree, letting the nighttime sounds of the forest consume me.

District 10: Mavvi Levist (17) Pov-

I move slightly under the curtain of foliage that serves as my blanket, guarding me against the chill of the night. I peer upward at the black sheet of the sky scattered with twinkling stars, waiting for the death recap to come on. Midnight must be any moment now, unless my internal clock is seriously screwed up, which I highly doubt given how early it is in the games.

Bored, I throw out my arms onto the forest grass behind me, and they don't touch anything but that—grass. As far as I know, me and the girl from 3 are the only tributes who avoided the bloodbath. I'm supply-less.

It turns out, I'm keeping track of the time pretty well. The Capitol seal flickers in the sky for a few moments and then stands there, illuminating the forest so brightly it might as well be daytime. Then come the faces. The girl from 1. The boy from 3. The boy from 4. The boy from 5. The girl from 6. Both from 8. The girl from 9. The boy from 12.

The 12 boy's face fades, and then, in an instant, the forest is dark once more.

I crawl down further into the blanket of leaves, a cloak of darkness surrounding me on all sides. But it isn't just ordinary darkness. This darkness feels somehow heavier, somehow denser than any I've ever felt before.

Maybe it's the thought that a tribute could creep up behind me and I'd have no idea. Maybe it's the thought there could be swarms of deadly mutts all around me. Maybe it's one of a million other things. Maybe it's all of them.

It's these tough questions that have puzzled me for my entire life. Being deaf, I'm told I'm missing out on some critical branch of the human condition, but how? It's not like I've ever known what sound is. A deaf person like me trying to imagine sound is like a normal person trying to imagine what it would feel like to sprout a third arm and somehow have new sensation they didn't before.

No use getting all existential right now. Those thoughts can wait for later. The gamemakers rarely introduce threats this early in the competition; there'll be a time to be worried and that time is not now.

Alliances:

Careers: Declan, Nero, Jaehaera

11 and 12: Adelia, Remi

Jack and Jill: Cerise, Erik

Loners (For Now): Pixel, Dory, Adelaide, Lincoln, Luc, Mavvi, Orford, Jaro

Here's the last part of Day 1! Don't forget that the days will move by more quickly as more tributes die off, so the story won't take a million years to finish. And also, I've gotten several sponsor requests already; just hold out a little longer, sponsoring starts next chapter :D

Question: If you could live in one of the 12 districts (assuming there aren't any economic differences and you'll have a good life there), which one would it be?

P.S. I decided to do another raffle. Everyone who answers the question will get 10 points as usual, and then I'll put the names of the people who answer into a hat. Then I'll pick one person and they'll get 50 bonus points. May the odds be ever in your favor…