Hello, all. Here's chapter 22 (I can hardly believe it...). The hunger games are continuing in full swing, and it seems poor Tobi never gets a moment's rest! That being said, prepare for a slightly dull chapter-I decided to pull back and describe some survival time, with the hunting and the gathering and stuff. After all, that stuff goes on behind the scenes of the whole game, and so often all we hear about is the fighting. Though of course, that's because there isn't a time in the games that isn't riddled with danger and death...

Anyway, enjoy.

I can't afford to hang around long-Clove knows the direction I ran, and I expect she'll want to follow the lead. Still a little shaky, I set off into the forest, picking a direction just a bit off from my original trajectory. Anything I can do to make myself hard to track.

I walk for probably most of the day. Following the slope of the hill downward and taking cues from moss and lichen, I find my way back to a stream-probably an off-shoot from the one that lead me to the pond. I stay close to it and fill up my water bottle every few hours. Even though the weather started out mild, today the sun is scorching, and I dehydrate quickly. I cringe to think about what happens if I lose the water.

After the initial morning conflict, the day proves surprisingly uneventful. Probably a little after noon (according to the faux lighting, anyway), I even stop to settle by the stream and make a temporary camp. My senses are trained the whole time for any sign of pursuit, but I take out the wire and use Clove's knife to carefully cut off a portion for traps. I make three, and scatter them around the stream on both sides, targeting the undergrowth and areas under fallen logs-anywhere small mammals or amphibians might hide. The thought of eating red meat makes my stomach churn-district four is a fishing community, and we rarely eat any other form of meat. I myself have never cared for it. Still, I suppose it's better than starving, and I'll need the protein.

After setting the traps, I stash my pack in the crook of a tree, concealing it from any passing tributes with dead leaves before going on a short wander. As I walk, I try desperately to remember which things in the forest will feed you...and which will kill you. Probably don't risk any mushrooms, I think, passing a clump of the fleshy fungi. Berries are probably okay...and some grasses and things. I stoop to pick up a small nut from the ground. It's round and hard-doesn't look overly appealing. But I can't recall any poisonous nuts, so I pocket it and shuffle through the ground decay to gather up a handful more, hopping around like a frog. I smile to myself at the ridiculousness of the position, more relaxed than I've been since the start of the games. Really since I was reaped, to start with.

I stand, let the little auburn beads tumble into my now lumpy pocket, and a small blot of color catches my eye. Turning to peer closer, I notice that a nearby bush, leaves dark emerald and glossy, sports little blue orbs. I smile a little wider. Perfect-berries!

Without hesitation I crouch by the bush and begin delicately raking the berries from where they cling amidst the spiky leaves, already wondering how to maybe boil the berries and nuts together. It's daytime-I can make a fire. And the aluminum waterbottle should be okay over flames...

The thought of food makes me realize how knotted my stomach is with hunger. I haven't eaten since the games started-between running, fighting and terror, there's been neither time nor energy for it. As a result, I'm so distracted that I don't notice the sounds of approach until they're almost upon me. In a panic, I freeze.

The marked crackle of footsteps, accompanied by a careless level of chatter and a few giggles, makes my heart sink. Not the careers, again! I think, wondering blearily at my misfortune. I gulp thickly, completely forgetting the berries in my hand. The sounds come from the direction of the pond-I have no doubt they just followed my approximate direction. My pack flashes through my head-they'll pass my little spot by the water before getting to me. I pray silently that I hid the pack well enough. It could be a dead giveaway.

As it is, I'm nearly blind with fear, and cast around for a place to hide. I can't run without my pack, and I can't go back for it without running directly into them. The berries in my hand have begun staining the skin dark purple, dampened by the hot sweat in my palms. There!

Still in my frog-like crouch, I leap for a particularly tangled clump of vines and thorn bushes. Gritting my teeth as the little spikes dig into the exposed skin of my face, neck, hands, and yank at my hair, I push myself determinedly deeper into the thicket. The tangle conceals even my starkly white hair (which I realize makes me very easy to spot in this environment of browns and greens). Surely they won't follow me in here.

No sooner have I stopped fidgeting, skin smarting, mouth dry and throat constricted with bile and the strength of my pulse, then I see them appear. Cato walks confidently in the front of the crowd, and to my surprise, Glimmer walks at his side, his arm casually slung over her shoulders. She flicks her gold-blond hair and smiles at him, laughing at a shared joke. Clove must just love that, I think, catching sight of the dark-featured girl walking slightly behind the golden pair. To my surprise, I find that my own heart clenches at the sight of them, as well. I wonder what on earth Cato is doing-surely he intends to kill Glimmer himself. That's what it means to be a career-you kill everyone else, and then you have to kill off your own allies. Why would they decide to get attached, first?

Bringing up the rear is Glimmer's partner, Marvel, and oddly the boy from district 3. I wonder why he's with them, frowning through the thorns to watch their progress. He's small-by no means a powerhouse-and district 3 seemed entirely out of contention for career status, this season. What are they up to..?

To my utter horror, the group slows to a stop just in front of my hiding place. Suddenly I feel completely exposed, like my pale skin and white-blond hair must be nearly glowing from my hiding spot, and my heartbeat must resonate like a series of small explotions through the quiet of the forest. Even as I panic, Cato seems to look around thoughtfully, face serious with focus. I stop breathing and watch his eyes, sure they'll fall to meet mine any second.

Instead, he turns to look back the way they came.

"Oi, lover boy!" He calls over his shoulder, pausing to cock a grin at Glimmer. She giggles. "Hurry up and get over here!"

I'm momentarily distracted from my fear. Lover boy? That could only mean one person...

In shock, I watch Peeta Mellark emerge from the trees, sauntering forward carrying a small sword. What on earth are you playing at, twelve? It seems inconceivable that he's here with the careers. After his bold confession in the interviews, I was positive he would follow Katniss around like a lost guppy. But then, I have bigger things to focus on at the moment.

"Are you sure she came this way, Clove?" Glimmer turns to ask, one hand on her hip as though patiently dealing with the imagination of a small child.

"Absolutely," Clove spits back and saunters up to stand eye to eye with Glimmer, who remains coolly smirking. "And I don't remember you being anywhere near the scene this morning, so why don't you just hang back and follow like a good little princess?" Clove is inches away from Glimmer's face, and the animosity between the two girls is palpable. Glimmer nearly growls.

"At least I wasn't outrun by some shrimp from Four," she mocks with a mean smile. Cato hangs back and watches the exchange for a moment, a half-amused smile playing across his face. So that's his game...He's clearly aware of the core of the cat fight, and I resist the urge to roll my eyes at the drama, distracted only by the chilling fact that they are, of course, talking about me.

"Well since I can outrun you five times out of five, I don't think you would have stood a better chance." Clove spits, and Glimmer finally breaks, lunging a bit before Cato steps up and casually catches her around the shoulders. It's disturbing to witness how easily he contains her-I saw the power behind that small, controlled attack, and Cato dragged Glimmer back with only one arm. I swallow, dreading the day I'll have to face him. Well, maybe somebody else will kill me off first...I'm surprised by the sadness that comes along. I realize that, despite my conviction, Finnick's words are a self-fulfilling prophecy. When it comes down to it, I really do consider Cato a friend. How twisted is that...

"Chill," he commands to the girls. "She's fast, but small. She can't have gotten far-we'll catch her eventually." I watch his blue eyes darken, and wonder, entranced, what he's thinking. "She doesn't stand a chance." I flinch.

"In the mean time," Marvel chimes in with a gesture to Peeta. "What are we doing about the lovebirds?" There's something about his tone when he says it-an eerie glee that sets my hair on end. Cato shrugs.

"We find the girl, kill her, and then take him out." Their voices are low, but I can see Peeta watching them carefully. He must be fully aware that his position is tenuous, at best, leading me to question, yet again, his intentions in joining the pack, at all.

"Who else is left?" Clove asks. Cato thinks a moment.

"My partner from Three, the boy from Eight, the girl from five, Katniss, and both from eleven and four," the boy from Three rattles off quickly. My heart leaps for a moment, surprised. I had thought for sure Oscar was dead. How on earth has that boy survived this long? I wonder, inwardly impressed. Then again, it's a near-miracle I'm still alive...

"Shouldn't we just kill him and be done with it?" Glimmer mumbles, nodding her head toward Peeta. She's clearly grumpy, still put out from her spat with Clove, and wanting to prove herself by killing someone.

"He's our best chance of finding her," Cato answers simply. And that's that-he's the undisputed leader of their group. Glimmer misses the patronization behind his smile and flirtatiously glances up at him through her lashes. I fight to quell the burn that rises in my chest at her attentions. I refuse to let myself think it's jealousy. In another life, another world, Cato and I could have been something like friends-I could puzzle out the million emotions hovering behind his azure gaze, and catalogue his myriad different laughs. But this is Panem, and we are tributes in the 74th hunger games. To like him-even to think of him-spells death.

"She went this way." Peeta suddenly brushes past the group, pointing toward my thicket, and for a moment I am torn between staying put and making a run for it. Then I realize that, of course, Peeta is talking about Katniss, not me. Not daring to breathe, I watch as he passes, his boot less than three feet from my face. Confident air never faltering, Cato follows, boots clomping heavily on the ground, with the two girls, Marvel and Three in tow.

I watch until they disappear from view. When they're finally gone, and the soft echo of their voices has dissipated into the soft rustling sounds of the forest, I carefully maneuver myself out of the thicket (not, unfortunately, without accruing more scratches from the evil little thorns). Still ready for them to return at any moment, I leap carefully from tree to tree, pausing behind large trunks to wait and listen.

As I go, I run back over the tributes that are left. From a pool of 24, 10 have died in the first two days. The number is staggering...and yet, I realize that I expected it to be much worse. From the bodies at the cornucopia, bloodbath, and the killings I already witnessed this morning, I thought less than half the tributes would be left alive. Moving like a zombie, I realize that it's no where near over. We're not even halfway through, I think, despondent. I clench my teeth, fists squeezed so tight my knuckles have gone white, and frown through a haze of sudden tears. If I want to win, there are still 13 people left to die. Oscar's face floats behind my eyes, and I realize with a sick jolt that I hoped he'd already be dead.

Roughly I wipe the tears before they fall, and stomp along. I hope so strong it burns that I don't ever run into Oscar.

When I reach my pack, I numbly empty the nuts from my pocket into one of its pouches and pull it from the leaves. I notice that somewhere in my ordeal I dropped the berries-oh well. I'll find more eventually. Anyway, I've lost my appetite.

Here we are, then. I ended up sneaking some almost-action in there, anyway. And yes, before you ask, those were deathberries Tobi almost ate. She'll learn about that a little later. And don't worry-the tension with Cato is far from over, despite the seeming mildness of the last couple chapters. They'll be running into each other throughout the series, and things will get more and more difficult for Tobi.

Anyway, let me know any fun Tobato scenarios you guys think up!

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