Hello my dearest followers! Another chapter from the Kram industries! Sorry for taking so long, I kind of had a busy... month, and my minions don't operate on my fanfiction account. A friendly reminder to Anaaron and to update their stories as soon as possible. Thank you for reading!

Enjoy ;)

Andrew Restorés

I look around. Somehow I've survived the blood bath. The other careers are around me, the girl from District 1, both from District 2, and me and Yaerang from District 4. I look them over. None of them look shocked, or seriously injured. I look at the mangled, drowned body of the girl who had stepped to close to my personal hurricane. I couldn't even remember her name. It would be my kill. I know I should be proud of it, but all I can feel is cold darkness filling me. This person would still be alive if it wasn't for me. No. If it wasn't for the game-makers for the capitol and their sick games. I turn towards the cornucopia, determined to keep my mind off of what I had done.

I pick through the weapons, searching for a specific one I know should be there. I pick up a backpack, but decide to fill it with stuff after I find what I'm looking for. As I walk on top of the various swords, axes, bows, and in general sharp or pointy stuff, I see a gleam from under a strange-looking scabbard. I move towards it, and pull the thing out. It was Kratos. Or, at least, an exact replica, right down to the wave designs decorating the blade. Even the sheath looks like the home-made device I had created for it. I smile, and sling the giant weapon across my back before I begin again to scavenge the pile of goodies. Some other tributes also begin searching through it as well. I look over my shoulder and notice a strange look spread across Tamara's face, something like exasperation as she stared into the autumn section of the arena. What was she staring at…?

Then she is gone. Just like that, before my very eyes, Tamara had disappeared completely. I blink and shake my head, thinking I was imagining it. But no. She is really gone. I look around and it was clear the other tributes had noticed it to. Tamara is just… gone. We stare at each other in awe. My heart begins to race. I had never seen this happen in the arena before…

"What if this is a game master trap?" Petunia says, her eyes growing to the size of golf balls. "What if we stay here too long and we all get taken away?"

I think about this for a second. Maybe she was right. Maybe the game-makers didn't want people to be at the cornucopia. Maybe they had killed Tamara to leave a message.

It seems like the other tributes had realized this too, and almost simultaneously people begin to run for the hills, determined to put as much distance between themselves and the cornucopia as possible. I find myself running beside Ethan, his short but strong body pumping itself almost to the limit. I look down at him, and he turns to look at me as well, his hazel eyes meeting mine. The height difference is definitely weird, him being shorter than average and me being much taller than average, at least for our age. As our eyes lock onto each other, understanding passes between us. No cannon had sounded. Tamara isn't dead – and this isn't something organized by the game masters. We look ahead, and see that we're running towards the area where the snowy area met the autumn forest. We avoid the river and jump into the dense woods, falling to our stomachs and positioning ourselves to watch the cornucopia from here.

The last careers disappear from the circle, and as quickly as she had disappeared, Tamara reappears, Mark and Hannah, the District 5 tributes, laughing behind her. The three giggle to themselves for a minute, and I hold up a hand to my left, where Ethan is crouched. He meets it with his hand, and we high-five in silence. We had guessed right. He glances over at me, and I shake my head. These guys had pulled off a pretty smart trick – we would let them reap their dues. But I mentally mark out all three of these people. They would be tough enemies, and I didn't want to end up fighting against them unprepared. I'm surprised, actually. I had seen Hannah and Mark build up a small army of allies during the last 7 months we had been training for this, but they had never asked me, or Ethan, to join them. I shrugged. I would have declined anyway. I don't work with a big team.

I look over at Ethan again. His short blond hair, in contrast to my longish dark brown, blows in the wind as he stared out through the trees. His nose looks smooshed, probably from some fight in District 2. But it doesn't mar his features – In fact, it just makes him look even more rugged. His face is contorted in determination, and I can see a fearsome glare emitting from his eyes. I nod a few times, and then turn back. If I was to work with anyone, I want to work with him.

I watch the 3 tributes take their pick of weapons and food from the cornucopia, and after laughing a bit more and patting each other on the back, they turn and make their way towards the desert area. I look at Ethan again, and after a few minutes we make our way back to the cornucopia.

'So. Where to next?' Ethan asks, his eyes scanning the ground for his bow which he had accidentally dropped during the sprint away from the gigantic horn of plenty. I turn towards him, a confused look on my face, and he simply returns it with a smile. I raise both eyebrows and turn away. I hadn't expected at all for Ethan to stick with me. However, he had just pretty much asked me my opinion in where 'we' would go. I smile a bit as I begin to fill my backpack with food, water, and supplies.

'I'm thinking we should follow the river upstream. There has to be a source somewhere, and it's vital that we have a good source of water. I don't want to stay here- with the other careers gone almost every tribute will be drawn here like moths to a flame.'
Ethan nods, and slings his newly-found bow over his shoulder. He grabs a satchel, tie-dyed and with the letters ROFL on it (Don't ask me what that was supposed to mean) and begins to fill that with some important stuff as well. He also takes two knives, inserting them into a belt he had dug up. We looked ourselves over, and I nod. We look ready. He nods at me, and together we set out, following the river upstream, towards the wintery plains with the storm in the distance. The games have begun.