Ashira Marlstone, 16, District Twelve Female

She feels her tears running down her cheeks and dropping into the long grass of her hiding spot, falling into the surprisingly-soft ground that's under her feet.

She abandoned Corey… She left him to die… And now she's all alone. All alone.

She can't even fathom the fact that he's gone. Ever she got into the Capitol, she always had a piece of her home with her. It was Corey, but he's gone now. He's gone.

And he's never coming back.

So why can't she seem to muster any more pain from his death?

She's tried to feel more remorse for the death of her companion, but the only hurt that she can feel is the fact that she ran away. She should have stayed to help him. She should have taken a stand. But it's finished now. She can't do anything more. But no matter how hard she tries, she can't miss Corey. She just hadn't bonded with him enough.

Her mother had always said she was dispassionate, especially whenever the family had gotten into spirited discussions about the Games. Mother had always taken a stand against the Games, her brilliant eyes flashing as she argued with her grandparents about why the Games should end. She had such wonderful arguments for why they should end, and she was never afraid to flaunt them to the family. But whenever she called on Ashira to provide her own opinion, all Ashira could muster was a half-hearted reply about how the Games killed children. She just couldn't relate it to herself, it had never carried a great weight for her. There were a Hunger Games, and every year two children from District Twelve were reaped from the town square and sent off to die. It hadn't felt real, just another thing to watch on the television. She couldn't feel for the tributes, get scared about the reapings, cheer for the victors. Her mother had always sighed and nodded, telling Ashira to use more emotion in her responses. To her mother, it was the only way she could keep rising.

But Ashira's afraid now.

She stands up and looks up at the hotel, the flashing glass shining down on the waking arena. Those lights that kept her awake last night are still flashing, with the first and fifth floors bearing green lights, and the others shining red. She blinks away tears and looks away, towards the river that she can see in the distance so clearly. She needs water, she hasn't drunk anything since yesterday.

It's been a long time since yesterday.

Yesterday, she had been so confident in the fact that she had access to water for the rest of the Games that she hadn't collected any at all, spending her time watching the beautiful plains below. She had been able to spot the occasional tribute, but the plains had been empty for the most part. But she hadn't cared at all. She had felt so safe in that floor, so far away from the rest of the world. She wouldn't have had to make any decisions if she had stayed. She could have lived through the games without moving a muscle, just waiting for the rest to die.

Just waiting for herself to die.

But she forgot that this is the Hunger Games, for crying out loud, and that no one can get away with hiding the whole time. She couldn't just avoid the rest of the tributes. She has to fight them.

Right on cue, a parachute comes falling from the sky. Ashira looks up at the parcel, blinking in surprise in the light of the sun, and grabs the silver canister to stop it from beeping. Inside is a small, silver knife, with a tiny note folded around the metal.

Take a side, Ashira. A fan.

She stares at the note, looking at the small words that carry so much weight. It's true. She can't spend her whole time avoiding this situation. She has to move. She has to choose to live or to die, to fight or to hide. She will. And she'll start with water.

She walks towards the river with her knife in her right hand, looking nervously around her at the rest of the arena. There's only ten of them left. Ten, lost, frightened children, on a knife's edge between life and death. They're trapped in the middle. And they'll all have to go one way or the other.

She fingers her chain, the simple golden metal a comfort against her neck. Then she hides it under her shirt once more and keeps going, continuing to hold her sponsor gift. The knife feels foreign in her hand, a different feel than the kitchen knife that she had managed to grab that first day. Maybe it was the difference in purposes. She had held kitchen knives many times before to help with dinner, but this knife is meant for death and death alone. It feels lethal. It feels dangerous.

A sudden roar comes from the distance and Ashira looks to her right, only to see the lions starting to approach her. It's one of the bigger females in the lead, and if she looks closely, there's three more right behind her.

She bites back a scream of fear and moves slowly towards the river, still keeping an eye on the four lions. They're still walking towards her with a confident aura about them, almost as if they knew something that she doesn't. It's almost as if…

She's walking right into a trap.

She spins around in time to see one of the males launching themselves at her, the lethal claws just missing her cheek as she dives away. He spins around and tries again, this time to be met by the metal of Ashira's knife. It leaves a long, bloody scratch on his side, and he howls in pain before turning slowly towards Ashira. In her focus on him, because she only focused on attacking, not fleeing, she had neglected to notice the rest of the pack approaching her. And now she's surrounded.

The roaring lions are still relatively far away from her, but she remembers classes on great cats in her science courses at the small school in Twelve. She can't let them get close enough to sprint at her and kill her off, she knows that they can run almost a quarter as fast as the Capitol trains at top speed! There's only one place left for her to go, one that she can hopefully rely on: the river. It's her only hope.

She bolts for the river, running as fast as she possibly can to the shallows of this sanctuary. She reaches it just before the lions, running into the river until she's up to her chest. But as she starts to go deeper, she notices the docile crocodiles floating alongside the other edge of the river. Another trap.

She screams in fear and runs out as fast as she can, running just alongside the riverbank in an effort to keep the lions at bay. They still follow her, but a few of the less nimble-footed lions stumble into the river, only to be met by the hungry crocodiles and their huge, snapping jaws. She hears the yowls of the lions as they stop to help their comrades, but she doesn't look back. She has to find a place to hide.

She runs towards a tree that she can see in the distance, almost stumbling over herself in her effort to get to it. Maybe lions can't climb. Maybe she'll be safe there.

After all, it's the only hope she has.

Her lungs soon start to gasp for air, and Ashira slows down slightly in her race for survival. As she continues to run, she risks a glance backward to be greeted by a few of the lions still chasing her in the distance. They haven't stopped yet. She closes her eyes and runs faster, tapping into her last reservoirs of energy. She has to keep moving! She has to!

She leaps over a rock and starts to zigzag around the plains, hoping that it would confuse any lions still chasing her. She doesn't want to look back again to see if it's working. She doesn't want to know that she's wrong.

She can see an orange-spotted giraffe near the tree as she continues to run, but she doesn't stop running. Even if the giraffe will kill her as well, it feels safer to take her chances with a herbivore, rather than the lions. She'd do anything to avoid those lions. But they're starting to catch up. And she's starting to slow down.

She keeps trying to run faster, but all her legs can manage to do is struggle to keep at the same furious pace that she's been keeping. She can't run like she could before, and the lions are only moving faster. She looks back again, and she can now see the two lions continue to race after her. She's going to get caught.

She reaches the giraffe and runs under its legs in her effort to get to the tree, but she stumbles on a root and crashes into the ground. This is it. This is the end. She's going to die. She's going to die. She's going to die.

But as the seconds tick by and she gets back to her feet, she hasn't died.

The lions don't even approach her as she stands back up, holding her hands to her sides and wheezing loudly. They're intimidated by the giant giraffe that's right in front of her, placidly watching the golden predators.

She stands up and gazes in wonder at the mighty giraffe, who chomps on another mouthful of leaves from the tree as it stares at the lions. Another giraffe approaches and snorts wildly, kicking with its front leg at the two lions. One is hit by the huge hoof and slams into the ground, crimson blood bleeding from it's soft stomach as it collapses onto the grass. The other lion flees, it's golden paws kicking up a storm of dust as it runs back to it's pack mates. She's safe.

Ashira gasps for breath as she watches the lion run, putting her hand on the giant tree as she tries not to collapse onto the dusty ground. The giraffes have settled themselves once more, taking mouthfuls of leaves and chewing them happily. They don't seem to notice her, or if they do, they're ignoring her. They must think she's too small to do them any harm. And they're right - even with this knife, the most she could do is slash one of them on the leg before getting kicked to death, like the other lion that's collapsed on the ground. Vultures are already circling down from the skies to start a feast, cawing hoarsely to one another as they start to rip chunks of meat from the dead lion.

She finally catches her breath once more and heaves a loud sigh, looking up at the giraffes again. Even though they're herbivores, prey to be killed by the lions, they can defend themselves and attack the lions when they need to. They don't take just one side in their circle of life. They can step between both of them, protecting themselves and their herd.

She smiles up at the beasts and puts a hand on the tree, starting to pull herself up the gnarled trunk. She'll sleep up here tonight, next to the giraffes. Tomorrow she can move, look for more safe spots, and be ready to fight anyone who gets in her path - or run if she needs to. She doesn't have to pick a side. She can pick both.

And she can finally feel at peace.

And that's the seventh update in a row! EEEEEEEEE! I don't think I'll get another chapter out tomorrow, but I'll sure try XDDDDD I hope you guys enjoyed Ashira in her fight for survival! Now she has a knife, courtesy of goldie031, and she's safe in that acacia tree (though she doesn't know it's name). I hope you enjoyed the giraffes! I remembered reading about how lions can be intimidated of giraffes because of their kicks when I was young, so I put that to good use to save our darling from Twelve. Hope you enjoyed that!

We'll be seeing another familiar face next time (guess! guess!) who you'll find out when that chapter is posted ;) Can't tell you everything! I'm really inspired for this story, so I hope that it's tomorrow, but if not, that's perfectly fine XDD As long as you guys are somewhat happy :)

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We're into Night Three with ten tributes left next chapter! That's exciting to me, as we're getting nearer to the end of the story… Who do you think will become victor?

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