A/N

In a shocking turn of events, I finished my dissertation and finished this chapter! Albeit a day later, but hey it's bank holiday where I am so it still counts as the weekend.

Anyway, after an intense bloodbath last chapter, we continue this next phase of Mask of Shadows in the mysterious moonlit arena where we'll be catching up with a few tributes and seeing how they are adjusting to their new environment. Also, in celebration of finally being free from academia, I decided to name the chapter something dumb and fun because why not; I'd love some chicken nuggets right now.

Angora Winchester, District Eight Female

Angora Winchester had always prided herself on her accurate judgement of others, but as she trekked through the moonlit arena with nothing but her faint shadow beside her, she realised just how wrong she had been.

No, she hadn't been wrong. She had simply been careless.

Angora had known both with her head and her heart that allying with Valak Vatican would be a risk. He was slick, dangerous, deceiving. The type of person Angora had spent countless hours of her waking nights surrounded by, and yet there had been just the slightest something which had differentiated him from blending in with a distasteful crowd. Valak was a tortured soul; that part was obvious even to the unsuspecting. The broken skin on his knuckles which would never heal, the hollow depth to his sage coloured eyes, the way he stood with a posture slightly off-centre. It was all noticed by Angora, and it all told the story of a fractured existence. She had believed that Valak could offer her protection, and so long as she stroked the softest parts of his fragile ego, she could remain in his favour.

Angora had hoped that she could control the boy from Ten; at least enough to keep herself alive for as long as she required his protection. And she may have succeeded, had it not have been for Cathedrite Zhuang.

What had drawn Valak to the angelic girl from Nine, Angora was still unenlightened. The girl had barely spoken a word to Valak, and yet his eyes would always drift towards her vicinity, like a magnet with a directional pull. Angora had asked him one evening as they had walked out of the training centre, but of course he gave no answer, evading the truth as men often did.

The truth was not the only thing Valak had evaded; he had also evaded Angora herself.

Standing in the courtyard, Angora had watched her ally delve deep into the fray, not caring about the dangers around him. That part had not come as a surprise; his air of arrogance had provided him with a mental armour he believed covered his entire body like steel. He had shaken hands with death, caught between two Careers, but in his escape it had not been Angora he had fled towards, but Cathedrite.

And that was when Angora had realised that she was alone.

Angora had always kept an eye on time. Minutes were her trade; time sold was money in her pocket. Ensure the exact amount of time was spent with each client; slowly feed the clientele what they desired in bite-sized portions to keep them wanting more –ensure to be home before the sunrise. Angora's life had been entirely dependent on time. But here, she could not tell the difference between a minute and an hour.

It had been night-time when they had entered the arena –or at least it had been by the arena's design. Angora did not know when the day would come, if it ever would, and so she decided to listen to her body to tell her when she needed to drink, eat and rest.

The aching in her feet told her it was time to rest. The dryness in her mouth told her it was time to drink. The gurgling in the pit of her stomach told her it was time to eat.

Assuming the temple-type building at the top of the courtyard had been a northerly point, Angora had headed east. The landscape had been parched for the most part; a weathered path of dusty bricks with endless splits and turnoffs was lined with clusters of bioluminescent plants, huddles of darkened rocks, and the occasional stone lamppost lit with a flickering coloured flame which offered little light. In the distance, Angora had seen the outlines of larger structures; circular towers connected with arched bridges and stone buildings with decaying edges.

When she finally decided to rest, Angora had come across the first body of water she had seen since the pot of coffee she had stared at over breakfast many hours ago.

It was a small pool, and the surface of the water seemed undisturbed as the gentle light of the pale white moon above rested upon it. A fuzzy coating of bioluminescent green moss clung around the edges, softening the ground beneath her knees as Angora knelt down beside the water's edge.

At first she chose not to remove the bag from her back, just in case she had to make a fast getaway. She hadn't seen another tribute for what felt like hundreds of miles, but with the endless shadows around, she could never be sure.

She did, however, place the weapon she had retrieved from the courtyard beside her. It was not a weapon she had touched in the training centre, and not one she would have chosen had it not been the only weapon within her reach as she had fled for her life. It was a crossbow, with four bolts tucked in a small compartment on the side of the handle. Angora did not know how to use a crossbow, but she could make an educated guess for where a bolt was to be loaded and that squeezing the small trigger at the end of the handle would release it.

Angora allowed herself to breathe a slow breath of relief as she cupped her hands into the cooling waters. The sensation of moisture against her skin was calming as she brought her hands to her lips.

She paused.

Would the water be poisoned?

Lowering her hands, Angora tipped away the water back into the pool, looking cautiously around her. The plants that gathered around the pool like a watering hole appeared lush; their colours rich and their leaves thick with nutrients. Angora knew little about plants from her own experience, but recalled her time in the training centre. Plants which had such an appearance as the ones before her were likely plentiful with water, and should they be thriving, that was a good indicator that the water was safe to consume.

Content with her logic, and otherwise driven by her thirst, Angora refilled her hands, pouring the water into her mouth without further delay. It was pleasant against her tongue, its taste almost sweet. She drank three further handfuls, until wiping her mouth dry with her sleeve and sitting back on her heels.

Shrugging her bag off her shoulders, Angora opened it in her lap. It was only a small bag, no larger than the clutch bags she would fill with lipstick, perfume and a hairbrush when attending elite events on the arm of a man with money to spend on her company. There was just as much inside; a roll of something too thin to be rope but stronger than thread, a compact mirror and a small parcel of dried crackers. Angora broke off the corner of a cracker, nibbling on it and hoping that it would keep the hunger at bay until she found a more sustainable food source.

Unfortunately, there was nothing to store water in, so Angora made a mental note not to stray too far from a water source. From her listening in the training centre; lack of water was just as dangerous as a knife.

Just as she zipped up the small bag, a change in the reflection on the water's surface grasped her attention. The rippling image of the Capitol symbol, followed by the crescendo of its anthem turned Angora's eyes towards the sky.

The central white moon was the backdrop for the image, which then began to shift as the anthem played on. The first face in the moon was the boy from Seven, Cameron Alcatraz, whose somewhat sad look made Angora's heart flutter as she thought about what his face in the sky meant. The canons had signalled death, but after being away from the bloodshed and having time to ponder alone, the reality of the situation was truly starting to sink in.

After Cameron the moon displayed a boy Angora had known very little about. Anri Astellin from District Nine must have deliberately kept a low profile, though apparently not low enough to hold onto his life.

Finally, Velaris Axar from Twelve lit up the surface of the false moon. Angora was surprised to have seen her face so soon; remembering their brief encounter in the training centre regarding Frankie. Velaris had seemed to possess a tough exterior as she had thrown herself between her ally and Valak as their testosterone fuelled bodies came to near fists. A girl like that could have gone far in the Games, Angora had thought, though it seemed with each passing moment, what Angora thought was becoming less and less reliable.

As the anthem died out and the sky returned to the same setting it had been since the start of the Games, Angora began to notice how isolated she was. People had become her means of survival, even before the reapings. She used them as they used her; each body a step closer towards her freedom.

Now, there was no one other than herself.

But Angora did not feel alone.

Phoenix Cameron, District Five Male

Phoenix was glad not to be alone.

He supposed that during his week in the Capitol he had treated it almost like a holiday; enjoying the food and the parties and having his photograph taken. He'd made light competition out of the agility course, feeling almost high from the buzz he felt when he beat his previous score. He'd chatted casually to anyone who glanced in his direction, cracking jokes and swatting back the banter that was thrown his way. For what reason? Denial?

There was no denying his reality now. Even if he closed his eyes, Phoenix could feel the gentle chill in the air and hear the vast emptiness around him. No more procrastination, no more hiding from the truth. It was a matter of literal life and death, and in all honesty, Phoenix was scared shitless.

"How about we go this way?" suggested Aida, pointing to their left. "There looks to be some shelter or something over there?"

Phoenix simply shrugged in nonchalant agreement. A guilt poked at the back of his mind as he followed his ally's lead; thinking back to the courtyard and what had happened there.

As always, Phoenix had run. His natural agility had carried him quickly towards a handful of supplies, and then in pursuit of Aida, who had sprinted from her podium so fast that if it weren't for the bold colour of her hair, Phoenix would have lost her to the shadows. But in Phoenix's haste, he had crashed into another. A girl, whose body was tall but visually fragile. It had felt like knocking into wind as he had collided with her; her body crumpling to the ground like a scrap piece of paper blowing down a dusty road. He had been fast to his feet, adrenalin and fear propelling him onwards, though there had been the briefest of moments when he had considered helping the girl –and had decided against it.

Had Phoenix condemned the girl to death?

There was every possibility that he had served her helpless body on a silver platter to anyone who cared to dip their hands in her blood. And he had heard two further canons firing following the collision, meaning two opportunities for a canon to have belonged to her. Phoenix was not morally above killing someone, not if it meant his survival; but the concept of taking a life in self-defence was far more tolerable than the thought of allowing someone to die through an act of selfishness.

"Earth to Phoenix," Aida was suddenly stood in front of him, one hand on her hip as she waved the other in his face. "Incoming call, beep beep. Hello, are you there?"

Phoenix shook his head, pushing away his guilty thoughts. "Oh erm, yeah hi?"

Aida rolled her eyes. "Yeah hi. Where have you been for the past few hours?"

"Following you?" he frowned.

Aida rolled her eyes for a second time. "Not literally, dumb ass. I can clearly see your chubby little face beside me."

Phoenix lightly touched his cheeks. "Why do you always pick on my face, bruh? This is borderline bullying now, man."

Aida snorted, before her face fell back into a slightly less comedic and more serious expression. "Were you thinking about Cathy?"

"Oh, yeah…" Phoenix grasped the easy escape from his guilt.

"I knew there was something weird with that guy from Ten," Aida seemed to accept his lie. "Shit. I really hope that she's ok. Are we bad people for leaving her? I feel bad, really bad."

Phoenix shook his head, taking Aida's shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"There was nothing we could have done, Aida," he said, and it was the truth. "In the moment you just do what you gotta do, and we had to run. Simple. No one expects us to die for her –I'm sure she wouldn't die for one of us."

Aida pulled a face. "She actually might've, you know. Isn't that all Godly and shit?"

"The fuck would I know," Phoenix snorted. "Ain't no Godly bone in my body. Besides, if being a nun means you've gotta be all self-sacrificial, then count me out."

"They wouldn't accept you anyway."

"Pfft why not, I'm adorable."

"You're a boy, that's instant rejection."

Phoenix huffed dramatically. "Well that's rather sexist, isn't it?"

His eyes wandered past Aida's shoulders. "Whoa look at that!"

"At what?"

But Phoenix was already dashing towards the large rock he had seen, stretching his fingers out as he eagerly looked for the best route up its sides. Spotting a good place to begin his climb, Phoenix threw his leg up, tucking the toe of his boot into a crack in the rock and using his hands to pull himself up.

Scaling the side of the rock, it was the closest Phoenix had felt to home since he had stepped on the Capitol train. Feeling the rough exterior beneath the pads of his fingertips and the rush from his feet leaving the ground, Phoenix allowed himself to relax. As he pulled himself up onto the top of the rock, he looked down at Aida with triumph.

"Isn't this awesome?" he exclaimed, looking out at the landscape around him.

"It's just a rock," replied Aida sceptically. "Look, I think you should get down –what if someone sees you?"

"Nah," Phoenix looked over in the distance where he could see a grand-looking building with a spiralled tower. "Hey it looks really cool over there –it's like a castle or something."

"Well can you see anything useful, like a river or a lake?" Aida called up. "We'll need some water soon, you know."

"Erm, let me see," Phoenix turned to face the other direction, his eyes scanning the landscape.

He stopped.

"Well, what do you see?"

Phoenix swallowed hard.

In the distance, but not too far away to be comfortable, Phoenix's eyes settled upon a shift in the otherwise still background. It was difficult to make out due to the dark material of the arena outfits, but the glistening of moonlight against the gleaming surface of weapons was enough to tell that someone was on their tail.

And not just anyone. Careers.

"Shit, shit, shit," Phoenix threw himself to his chest, hoping that they hadn't spotted him. But as he peered over the edge of the rock, he could see one of the figures waving across to the others, gesturing in his direction.

He began to scramble towards the edge of the rock, flinging his legs over the side. In his panic he lost his grip, dropping several feet to the ground where he landed on his back with a painful thud.

Aida was instantly by his side, offering a hand to pull him to his feet. Panic had also set in her eyes as she looked desperately for an explanation.

"What did you see?" her voice cracked.

"C-careers," he managed to splutter out. "Three of them."

"Fuck," Aida swore quietly, pulling Phoenix up beside her. "Run."

They took off.

Aida was ahead for the first few strides, but it didn't take Phoenix long to overtake her. The way ahead became denser, bare trees with weathered, winding trunks and branches lining the sides of the pathway beside them. Large roots protruded from the earth, but Phoenix leapt over them weightlessly, his body dodging and darting around the low hanging branches, and cutting himself a zigzagged path. He could hear Aida's footsteps a short distance behind him, and he hoped that the Careers were far, far away.

Eventually, Aida called out faintly behind him and Phoenix allowed himself to slow to a jog, turning around.

"I think we lost 'em," she called out, waving for him to stop.

Phoenix nodded, coming to a final stop. He rested his hand on the trunk of a tree beside him, catching his breath as Aida walked over. As she reached him, she bent forwards, resting her hands on her thighs as she panted heavily.

"You…are…freakishly…agile," she said between breaths.

Phoenix grinned.

"We definitely lost them, yeah?" Phoenix looked cautiously behind them.

Aida nodded. "I think so."

"Maybe we should hide, just in case," Phoenix's eyes looked up at the large trees above them. "We could wait up a tree for a while? We'd have a better view which could give us more time to run if we needed to."

Aida shrugged. "Yeah, good idea. Give me a leg up, Mr Athletics?"

Quite pleased with his new nickname, Phoenix boosted Aida up the side of a large tree, giving her the extra height she needed to grasp onto a branch and pull herself up. Phoenix followed behind her, scaling the tree just as he did the rock, and settling down in a higher branch opposite.

With a sigh, Phoenix leant back against the trunk, allowing his eyelids to flutter shut. But the moment they closed, they flew open as the sound of the Capitol anthem startled him.

"Here we go," Aida craned her neck to look towards the sky. "There were only three canons, right?"

Phoenix swallowed.

He was worried that Aida would be able to hear his rapidly beating heart over the sound of the anthem, as he anxiously waited to see whether the girl who he had knocked would be filling the night's sky.

The first two faces were boys, much to Phoenix's relief, but also increasing the dread as the third and final face flickered into view. Phoenix felt his eyes twitching to shut, wanting to hide from the truth as he so often did, but he managed to force them to remain open.

Velaris Axar, District Twelve.

It was as if an invisible weight was lifted from his shoulders as he looked gratefully at the sky.

"You alright there, Phoenix?" Aida called over to him, a small frown on her pale face.

Phoenix nodded. All things considered, he was alright.

His hands were clean, at least for now. He had outrun the Careers, and above all, he was alive.

And for the time being, that was all that mattered.

Aldo Giotti, District Eight Male

Nothing mattered anymore to Aldo Giotti.

Fuck Velan. Fuck the Capitol. Fuck every single living creature on this forsaken land. They all meant nothing to Aldo, as Aldo meant nothing to them.

How had he come to this? How had he gone from the greatest killer to an unwilling participant in a Game made for children? Technically, Aldo knew he was still a child himself and that had with it its own benefits, but he wasn't like other children. He didn't go to school or hang out with friends; he didn't complain about homework or stay up past his bedtime. Aldo killed, and that was all he did.

And boy, was he good at killing.

It was somewhat logical to assume that being in the Hunger Games wouldn't be all that bad for an emotionless killing machine. It certainly could have been worse, but in all regards Aldo simply wished that he wasn't trudging through the arena smashing his machete through the withered vines that fell loosely from the cracked walls around him.

Aldo knew he could kill in the arena without consequences, but that didn't mean that he should. He faced a dilemma; usually his kills were specifically selected as a manner of punishment to bad people, whether that be by an order from Velan or through his own personal investigations. But here, Aldo knew next to nothing about the children he shared an arena with. Were they bad people? Or were they simply here as a result of bad luck?

Having bad luck was not the same as being bad.

Aldo had never killed a child either. Though in all honesty, that didn't really bother him. Man, woman, adult, child –whomever the target, Aldo always made his kill. It just so happened that none of his victims had been under the age of eighteen, which on the face of it was just a fact.

With an undignified huff, Aldo swung his machete again, hacking through a thicker vine that swung across an archway. There was a gentle sound as the two sides of the vine slapped against the stoned arch whilst Aldo walked between them; and other than that, it was pretty silent.

Aldo was bored.

Since leaving the courtyard some time ago –when he had taken advantage of the meek appearance he had established to grab a weapon and escape without anyone paying him any attention –he had been wandering around trying to find some food and water. Aldo needn't worry about encountering tributes, except maybe the Careers only due to sheer outnumbering, but he was aware that his survival skills, on the other hand, were lacking. Whilst he hadn't lived a life of luxury (far from it), Aldo had never had to scavenge for his own food, or build himself a shelter. His mother, before her pitiful death, had notably been a terrible parent, though at least in the rebel base carved out of an abandoned sewing machine factory there had been a roof over his head and food on the table (which also doubled as a chair and a bed). But in the arena, Aldo had no one else to rely upon.

The trainers in the Capitol had made finding food and water sound a lot easier than it was proving to be. Oh, just look for this, and oh just build that. Well, they weren't expecting the arena to be an endless trawl through darkness and crumbling buildings without a morsel of food or drop of water to be found, clearly.

Pretentious idiots, Aldo scowled to himself as he kicked a loose piece of rock across the weathered brick pathway in front of him.

As the rock stopped moving, the sound of scraping did not.

Loosening his shoulders, but continuing to walk, Aldo's ears pricked as he sensed that he was being followed. Having mastered the art of stealth, he could tell quite easily that there was just one set of footprints; light ones, with the steps quite close together. Someone not too tall or heavy then, and someone naïve enough to have fallen for his pathetic act.

With a small smirk to himself, Aldo continued to walk as though he were oblivious as to his shadow. He strolled up to the next part of the elongated building, walking beneath an archway before quickly ducking behind the wall beside it, waiting for his follower to walk straight into his pathway.

Keeping his breaths silent, Aldo waited patiently, and surely enough, a small figure crept through the archway.

Aldo leapt forwards.

There was a high pitched shriek as Aldo darted towards the intruder, the blade of his machete brushing against their neck before they could even move. He could feel them swallowing against the weapon as he narrowed his eyes towards them.

It was a girl, similar in age to Aldo himself.

"Are you gonna kill me then or what?" she spat in his face, screwing her nose up in a judgemental snarl. "I'd kill you just as fast."

Aldo felt a gentle prodding in his ribs where the girl had pointed her own weapon –a small hunting knife –towards his flesh. He knew that he could dispatch of her in seconds, far faster than she could push the blade through the gaps between his ribs, but he hesitated.

When he didn't kill her, the girl spoke again. "So you knew I was following you then?"

Aldo nodded.

"Oh," she seemed disappointed. "Usually no one notices me."

Me neither, Aldo thought.

"I guess maybe you're less pathetic than you look," the girl smirked viciously. "Maybe you could be of use to me."

Aldo gritted his teeth, the temptation to push the machete slowly through her skinny throat was growing.

But, she did have a point. Or at least, she had given Aldo an idea.

There was a large bag on her back, which likely held a wealth of supplies. That was what Aldo needed –he had only taken a weapon from the courtyard and nothing else, and so far his attempts to locate food and water had been fruitless. He could kill the girl and steal her supplies, but that would be a one-time opportunity, whereas if he kept her around, she could become a sustainable resource.

"Where'd you get the bag?" he asked, allowing the girl to finally hear his voice.

Her smirk deepened. "Stole it."

A thief. Perhaps she would have her uses.

"From who?" asked Aldo.

"My dumb district partner," she replied. "After I made him do what I asked."

"Reckon you could steal from others?"

The girl rolled her eyes as if he had just asked her if she knew how to breathe.

"I could steal from anyone," she announced proudly.

Aldo loosened his grip on the machete handle slightly.

"If I put this down, you won't kill me, will you?" he said, though he knew that if she tried to, he could still end her life before she got the chance to get close to ending his. But he couldn't give away all of his secrets so soon.

The girl thought about it for a moment, before shaking her head.

"Ok, well I'm going to trust you," Aldo lowered the weapon, his eyes watching the girl's knife. Her wrist twitched, but she kept the small blade by her side.

Taking a step back, Aldo looked at the girl. She brushed her shoulders, her lips pulled tightly together.

"I don't trust you, by the way," she remarked sharply. "I don't trust anyone. But, I don't think you're going to kill me, so let's call a truce."

She spat on her open palm and held it out to Aldo.

He stared at her damp hand, feeling a sick taste growing in the back of his throat, but Aldo pushed it aside and shook her hand weakly.

"Wow, you are pretty weak," the girl laughed harshly. "You must have only pinned me before because you surprised me. I'd easily beat you in a fight."

Aldo said nothing.

"Yet, you do seem less useless than you made out," she considered. "I reckon you're kinda smart. What's your name then? I'm Moonshine."

"Aldo."

"Weird name," she snorted.

Says the girl named after shit-tasting homemade liquor.

"So," Moonshine ran her hand along the walls beside them. "What's the plan?"

Aldo looked towards her bag. "You got any food in there?"

"I might," shrugged Moonshine. "What can you give me in return?"

A long, painful death.

"Nothing yet," Aldo admitted. "But I can help you to steal more supplies –I could be a good distraction?"

Moonshine seemed to like the idea as she flung herself to the floor, propping her back up against the wall and pulling her bag onto her lap.

"Use you as bait," she grinned. "I like that. Here, I suppose I could spare some of this."

Aldo sat himself opposite her, folding his legs beneath him. He accepted the offering of what looked like stale bread, though he was less pleased with the taste. Self-admitted, Aldo was a fussy eater, though all matters considered, it was all he really had for the time being. So he ate it, and imagined it was a chicken nugget instead.

After the Capitol anthem had played, and the faces of the dead appeared and disappeared in the sky, Moonshine stretched out her limbs.

"If I have a nap, I will wake up, right?" she eyed him suspiciously.

"You have my word," Aldo promised –and he meant it. At least for now.

"Gimme your weapon," Moonshine insisted, gesturing for him to place it in her bag. "Just in case –if someone comes then wake me up. You won't need it otherwise."

Aldo was hesitant to give the girl his weapon, but he needed her to trust him, and so he did as she said. He knew he would easily be able to retrieve it the moment she fell asleep.

After watching Aldo suspiciously for a short while, Moonshine's eyes eventually closed, and the sound of her breathing changed as she slipped into a light slumber.

With peace and quiet at last, Aldo got to his feet and wandered outside the part of the building they had settled in. The moon was still bright in the sky –well, one of the moons were. There were several others, though they somewhat faded into the background as the largest moon shone white like a spotlight above them.

As his eyes drifted down from the sky, Aldo noticed something that hadn't been there before. A silver box with a limp parachute sat atop of it was just a few metres away. Curious, Aldo walked up to it, bending down and brushing away the silky material from the top.

He unclasped the lid, opening up the box. With a frown, Aldo reached in and retrieved the item from inside.

In his hands sat what appeared to be a children's toy. Aldo hadn't played with toys as a child, but he was fairly certain that the strange object in his hand was something parents would give to their spawn to entertain them. It had a wooden rectangular base, with a series of colourful metal bars laid out in horizontal lines. A small wooden stick with a balled tip was attached by a string.

Curious, Aldo tapped one of the metal bars with the stick and a tuneful note played. Startled, he glanced behind him to ensure that Moonshine was still asleep –she was.

Putting the peculiar gift down, Aldo retrieved the small slip of paper that had come with it.

Sorry boy, with you and Moonshine forming a kids club, Daphne and I couldn't resist. I'm sure you'll find a use for it –B.

Aldo sucked in a sharp breath. So even his mentor was playing games with him.

In that case, maybe it was time for Aldo to make his move.

A/N

So, after a small death toll in the bloodbath, we are still without further bloodshed. I can assure you that a lot of other tributes will be dying at some point, these won't be dry games! I actually ended up planning the arena chapters thoroughly for a solid six hours without moving the other night, and I have up to the final eight precisely laid out. I am so excited for all that is to come, luckily I like keeping things as a surprise otherwise I'd just want to spoil it all as I have such fun plans.

As for this chapter, we hadn't heard from Angora or Aldo during the bloodbath, but we have caught up with them both now. Angora has been left alone since Valak went after Cathy, but she seems to be managing so far. What will her next move be, and can she survive long alone?

Phoenix was feeling the guilt after colliding with Lunete, but was soon distracted by his quick-witted ally and a really 'cool' rock. I swear, this kid is too normal sometimes (in the best way, of course). Unfortunately the Careers were on their trail, but Phoenix and Zoei have managed to escape. But how long will they be able to stay safe?

Finally, Aldo seems to be struggling. His bloodthirstiness was controlled during the bloodbath, and even as he wanders, he debates whether he wants to kill the other tributes or not. His survival skills aren't quite up to scratch, but he has found an opportunity in a surprise encounter. How stable is this truce between Aldo and Moonshine? Will they make a good team, or are they both too distrusting? Also, the first sponsor gift of the games! This was courtesy of ladyqueerfoot, as promised for winning the first poll with Cephus. Despite Cephus having won the poll, the sponsor gift was sent to ladyqueerfoot's other submission, Aldo. Though what he will do with a xylophone, I'll leave to your imaginations for now...

Thanks again to everyone for continuing to read! A special shout-out to Platrium for the incredible catching up; in just the space of a few days they have sped through nearly half of the story already and shared their views on discord. Legendary behaviour there!

The next chapter will be another arena chapter -what will lie within the shadows this time?

Until next time!

Firefly