-Part Twelve - Arson–

Lovino woke from the sun shining to his place in the tree. He didn't get much sleep due to his planning. He could still remember his thoughts clearly and he still had the same opinion about them. He believed, no, he knew that it was going to work.
He ultimately forgot to bring a gun with him, so using that was out of the question. The weapons he considered had ranged from normal to strangely obscure. But he had settled on one. Fire.

"He's still not back." Antonio said to Gilbert, whose ankle was almost healed. "It's weird that someone would just wander off, I hope he comes back."
"Why do you even care about him? If he wants to leave, then he can go run off to wherever." Gilbert smirked. "It's better without him. Less food for us to share. I just wonder how long it will take for him to die."

"You don't have to be so heartless." Antonio muttered.
"It's the Hunger Games; you're not supposed to be peaceful and loving."

The kindling had finally ignited and the tiny flame hungrily reached for more tinder. Lovino carefully moved the fire to a larger pile of dried grass and twigs. As the flames grew larger and consumed more, he added larger branches until he had an easily manageable blaze.
He sat back and watched the dancing colors while eating the remaining berries he had found. He was almost positive that they were safe to eat. The sun was beginning to set and darkness spread across the sky quickly. He set to work crafting a torch for the other tributes.

One fish, one bird, a few handfuls of berries, and two rabbits was all the tributes managed to gather. Though it was larger than yesterday's meal, the tributes were beginning to feel the effects of their sparse repasts.
"Arthur's on guard tonight." Gilbert declared sleepily, leaning against a tree.
"I know, I know." Arthur snapped, standing up and yawning. "Is it possible we could switch during the night? I honestly think I'm going to fall asleep soon."
"I didn't get to switch." Gilbert muttered.
"I can take your place in a few hours." Ludwig offered. "Be honest about the timing though." Arthur nodded in agreement and began pacing around the camp while the rest of the tributes found places to sleep. The night fell quickly, turning the camp into a quiet and empty retreat. Arthur kept moving around the camp and nearby forest, trying to keep from sleeping. Drowsiness clouded his head and he often stumbled.

A sudden movement in front of him shook Arthur conscious. In the looming dark ahead of him, he saw nothing but the outline of trees. He walked towards the movement quietly, now alert and awake. It could just be a curious deer or a figment of his imagination brought by sleep deprivation. Either way, he felt the need to pursue it. While stalking forward quietly, something moved behind him. It sounded like it dropped from a tree and that made Arthur more confused.
He turned and searched again for the sound. A rock, which he hadn't noticed before, rolled to a stop on the ground. He looked at it and then above him. "What the bloody hell is going on?" He grumbled to himself angrily. He turned to his left when he heard something snap. Still, nothing showed.

A glow of light walked through the forest to the camp. Arthur turned again in search of the sound and saw the small flame seeming to hang in the air. "What…?" He asked no one. The fire illuminated a face briefly, but only for a few moments. The few seconds were enough for Arthur to notice a hair curl sprouting from the attacker's hair.
"Lovino?" He called out to the wandering tribute. He was glad that Lovino had returned. Arthur hoped he had something to show for the time he had been gone.
Lovino turned towards Arthur and held his torch out carefully. With a deep breath, he greeted, "Hello. Sorry it took me so long to return."
Arthur nodded. "Where were you?"
Lovino bit his lip. "Behind the lake. I didn't know how late it was until the sun started setting." He paused and then remembered the lost tribute. "Tragic what happened to Kiku. Any word on how it happened?"
"No one witnessed the death, but we found it to be an animal."
"Well, it's nice to see how well all of you are faring, but I must go." Lovino replied with a quiet laugh.
"Wait, what do you mean you're leaving?" Arthur asked, watching the tribute.

Lovino walked into the camp and laid his torch on the first sleeping tribute he could find. The fire spread to the unfortunate tribute's hair while Lovino sprinted away from the camp.

Lovino couldn't hear anyone pursuing him through the panicked screams that filled the once peaceful night air. It wouldn't matter anyway. He assumed no one would bother to follow him. When he reached the peak of the hill, he turned around to survey his damage. The fire was had been tamed, but he knew at least one of them had been injured. He hadn't heard the pleasing cannon fire, but he assumed he would be hearing one soon.
He sat down on the grassy hill, trying to breathe evenly after his escape. He couldn't see anyone chasing him, but he wasn't concerned about them. Later, he was almost certain they would come looking for him.

The fire had quickly awakened the entire camp. Antonio had been attacked with the fire and had tried putting out the flames on the thing closest to him, which was Francis. Francis' jacket was quickly set on fire, soon searing his skin as well. He began trying to hit out the fire, which just made it worse. Alfred tried helping, but caught the sleeve of his jacket on fire too.
Alfred fell to the ground and rubbed the fire out onto a pile of leaves, which also caught on fire. He ignored the small fire, relieved that he wasn't in danger anymore. Francis noticed Alfred's tactic and soon was free from the flames. Antonio, even though he had rid of the fire from spreading it to Francis, was still worried that he was on fire. He constantly kept running his hand over his remaining hair. The camp was also clouded with smoke, but most of the tributes had enough sense to keep to the ground.

"Where…where did that fire even come from?" Alfred asked, leaning against a tree and rubbing his wound carefully.
"Lovino." Arthur replied in contempt.
"Lovino?" Antonio echoed weakly, looking over at Arthur.
"He came to the camp with a torch and said he had just left for a while. After I talked to him for a bit, he just bid goodbye and lit Antonio on fire."
"A torch? Did he leave with it?" Ludwig asked, looking at the ground around him. "We could use one."
"He just left it by Antonio's head. He ran off in that direction and…" Arthur trailed off when he noticed the small, but growing, fire. "Alfred, there's a fire behind you."
Alfred spun around and jumped back from the flames. "Uh…maybe we should get some water." He suggested, backing away from the fire.

"Step on the fire. It's not that big." Gilbert proposed. Alfred, following the advice, stamped the fire into the ground a few times, successfully extinguishing it. "See? I'm always right."

"So, are we going after him?" Ivan asked, sounding excited.
"Well, I don't think he'll come back soon. Best to leave him alone for now." Matthew said quietly. He didn't want unnecessary violence. Lovino hadn't damaged the camp or the tributes much.

"I could easily get rid of him." Arthur replied, reaching his hand into his pocket. The bullets were still there and he wanted to put them to use before losing them.
"What do you mean?" Ivan asked, narrowing his eyes at Arthur.
He paused before speaking, thinking of another way he could use the shotgun. "With enough force, a swing from a shotgun or rifle could break his neck."

"Well, you're not the strongest one here." Ivan stated crossly.
"Yeah." Alfred agreed, glaring at Arthur.
"Alfred, you're injured. Ivan, you're essential for collecting food. The group can spare me enough time to hunt Lovino down and kill him." Arthur decided, laying his hand over the shotgun next to him.
Matthew sighed weakly. His plan based entirely upon peace was falling apart. He was losing hope about the group being able to stay together, seeing as one tribute had already betrayed them.

He hated seeing the looks of doubt in the tributes eyes whenever he proposed a plan. He hated hearing the complaints about food and not being able to do anything. In other games, the tributes were always fared better alone. Groups, though small, were always brought down by betrayal. He knew he was thought of as a leader by most of the group and he was scared that his death would come next. The idea of him leaving his idea of peace was becoming more and more reoccurring. But he still tried to convince himself that there was still hope.