"What was that?"

Chester looked up. The wind had picked up over the past hour, and had been howling outside for a good ten minutes. Willow sat with Chester and Apollo inside their tent, which was struggling to stay up against the forces of nature. The three were all sitting against the wall that was taking the brunt of the wind's blows, hoping their weight would keep the flimsy structure from lifting clean off of the ground.

"What was what?" Chester asked loudly, trying to be heard over the screaming of the wind. His green eyes watched her closely, clearly worried.

"Nothing," Willow said immediately, as it was clear she was hearing things. Chester continued to look at her, and she averted her eyes. When she glanced back for an instant he was still watching her. She sighed. "It's just…I don't know. I thought I heard a cannon. It freaked me out a little. That's all."

Chester smiled at her. "Why are you smiling?" she asked him, her cheeks growing hot with embarrassment. He grinned.

"You're adorable."

Apollo cleared his throat then, and both Chester and Willow flinched. It dawned on Willow that the wind had died down a bit. The incessant howling had stopped, and it was possible to hear her allies speaking in a normal tone. Willow peeled herself from the wall and moved to the middle of the tent, which was only about a half a meter away from the others. Bundled up in winter gear as she was, she was still freezing. She watched as Chester crawled to the entrance of the tent and unzipped the door. The snow was falling more calmly now. The wind was still blowing, but much less severely. Willow shivered.

"Would it be crazy to build a fire?" Apollo asked hopefully. Willow looked to him, then to Chester. Chester bit his lip. Apollo looked crestfallen, anticipating the answer.

"I don't think it would be a good idea…"

"Yeah, it was a dumb suggestion."

"It's just that the wind may blow it out, or the snow could extinguish it, or we could attract attention to ourselves. It'd be a waste."

Apollo nodded. "I just wish there was a good way to warm up."

Chester nodded, sympathetic. He zipped the tent back up, realizing he was letting the chilly air in. Willow pulled her knees in close to her chest. In the pockets of each of the parkas there had been a pair of gloves. Willow had tucked hers into her sleeves to trap heat inside. She put up the hood, wishing the perpetual chill would just go away. Her stomach growled.

"Can we at least maybe look for some food?" she asked.

Apollo nodded in agreement. "Good idea," Chester told her. "Hunting or foraging?"

"Will animals be out?" Apollo asked.

"Maybe," Chester responded.

"I won't be able to kill anything…" Willow said quietly. "We should probably just forage. But bring the knife just in case. We may see an animal or something."

Or a tribute. Another child who has been thrown into this arena that only has a one in twenty-four chance of making it out alive. A human being we may have to kill if we want to survive. Will we be able to do it? Or will all three of us be killed? Willow shook slightly, as though with a shiver.

Chester moved to the back of the tent and rummaged through their small pile of supplies until he found his small dagger. He then unzipped the tent and stepped outside into the falling snow. His foot sunk into the sea of white, but it wasn't unbearably deep. The tops of his boots weren't yet submerged. Willow got out after him.

Apollo hung back. "Should we all go?" he asked warily.

"I don't want to leave anyone behind," Chester said. Willow smiled at him, though he wasn't looking at her. He was so sweet. She was glad she was facing the Games with him, at least. "Our lives are more important than our supplies. The most important ones are our clothes, and we're taking those with us."

"Are you sure?"

"Come on, Apollo," Chester said lightly. Apollo dragged himself out of the tent reluctantly, zipping it shut behind him.

"So, which way?" Willow asked Chester.

"Uh…I guess any way…unless anyone saw something while we were coming here…"

Willow and Apollo both shook their heads.

Chester shrugged. "Then this way," he said, pointing to the right. He began to walk. Willow followed after him, leaving Apollo to pick up the rear. The going was slow through the snow, and Willow stepped carefully to make sure that snow didn't fall into her boots and soak her feet. She was so focused on keeping herself dry that she wasn't even looking around for food. She hoped Chester or Apollo was, or the whole trip would be for naught.

After about five minutes of walking through the snowy trees, the trio reached a dense thicket. Chester stopped, and Willow nearly crashed into him because she was so focused on her feet. She stumbled forward a little before catching herself. She flushed. The warmth in her cheeks was burning hot compared to the temperature of the rest of her body.

"We should spread out and look through here," Chester suggested. Willow nodded, and glanced back at Apollo, who agreed as well. "Okay. I guess I'll search to the right. Apollo can go left, and Willow can go forward. Sound good?" More nodding. "Okay. If you run into trouble, holler."

With that, the three split up. Willow began to wade through the snow-covered bushes, wincing as the freezing snow was pushed up against her. Some of the bushes were as tall as her shoulders, and she felt uneasy walking through it, worried that something would attack her. She was glad she could at least see ahead, but that didn't stop the knots in her stomach.

Paying attention to her feet was now useless, as a few handfuls of snow had already been shaken down into her boots. She clenched her toes, hoping she'd escape getting trench foot or frost bite. Her gloved hands trailed along the bushes' leaves, searching for berries, or anything edible. She had studied up on edible plants during the training days, as she knew she would be rubbish at anything to do with weapons anyway. She was fairly certain she could tell something safe from something poisonous, but these all just looked like fruitless shrubs.

There had to be something they could eat. When they had entered the arena is was gorgeous and sunny out. Things would have been growing. It hadn't even been forty-eight hours since then, so things wouldn't have had time to rot off yet.

After a few more minutes of frustrated searching, Willow heard a yell of, "I've found something!" in Apollo's voice. Excited, she turned towards the sound and began to jog through the bushes. Her weak build had little success in fighting through the thick vegetation. She heard crashing behind her to see Chester catching up. They were built similarly, but the boy had a strong determination that Willow had been losing since she was reaped.

Eventually, they were side-by-side. Chester slowed down so that Willow could keep up. Together, they walked towards the excited Apollo, who they could now see coming towards them. He was grinning, and he held up a hand that was filled with dazzling orange-red berries. As they neared, they could see that he was chewing. He swallowed.

"I found these sticking up on stalks between the bushes. They don't taste super good, but they'll do the trick!"

Willow didn't recognize the berries, but Chester's voice was grave when he spoke.

"Apollo, can you show me one of the plants?"

His smile fading, Apollo nodded. He turned and led Willow and Chester back the way he had come. Willow watched Chester's face apprehensively, trying to read it. He looked worried, which in turn worried Willow. Though she hadn't so much as touched the berries, her stomach was beginning to flip, and she felt nauseous.

Apollo stopped. Chester bent to examine the stalk. After a good minute, he straightened up again. Apollo looked pale. "My throat," he choked out. The berries in his hand fell to the ground, leaving tunnels in the snow as they plummeted to the ground.

"How many did you eat?" Chester asked seriously.

"A couple handfuls," Apollo admitted.

"This isn't good." Chester paused. "Arum maculatum are supposed to taste awful. Furthermore, the symptoms are practically immediate. Why did you eat so many?"

"I was…so hungry…" Apollo wheezed out. "Figured it wouldn't…be a problem…thought the tingling…was from the cold…"

Chester shook his head. "We need to get you back to camp. It's possible that the symptoms will stop and you'll survive."

Apollo was as white as the snow around him at this point. "Or?" he croaked.

Looking him in the eye, Chester quietly said, "Or your throat closes up and you die."

They walked in silence towards their camp after Chester said this. Willow trailed behind them, feeling utterly useless. Apollo could walk fine, but his mouth was swelling like crazy, and she assumed his tongue and throat were, as well. She stayed back to avoid having to look at him. She was shaking, though not with cold. She was scared.

It was stupid that she was scared. It wasn't her that was dying. And it wasn't Chester. But Apollo didn't deserve this. He was so sweet and innocent. He wasn't the brightest in the bunch, but he had a kind heart. He had parents and two little sisters. Willow had never asked about them, but she figured they loved him very much. They'd be fools not to.

And now he was dying.

Willow supposed that there were worse ways to die in the Hunger Games. You could bleed to death slowly from a knife wound. You could be tortured by a Career. You could be ripped to pieces by a muttation. It wasn't that Apollo's death was pleasant. Willow knew that it wasn't. But the pain wasn't as great as it could be. He'd simply stop breathing and that would be it.

They reached the camp. Chester stood outside, as though conflicted. Finally, he told Apollo to sit.

"We can't go inside?" Apollo asked. His eyes were filled with tears.

Chester shook his head. "I don't…I don't want to contaminate anything…" He looked up at Apollo, who was truly sobbing at this point.

"So you've given up on me?"

No answer.

Willow and Chester stood together, watching Apollo. Willow wanted to say something to comfort him, but she couldn't think of anything to say. He had puffed up so much it looked like he had been pumped full of air. His breaths were ragged and he moaned about a burning sensation. There was no way that he would survive. All three of them knew it.

After a long time—or possibly only a few minutes—Apollo laid down on his back. His breathing slowed, and what breaths he did take were short, like hiccups. Breaking away from her statue stance, Willow knelt down beside him. She was afraid to touch him in case she got traces of the poison on herself. She just watched him, and he watched her back. She smiled slightly, tears welling up in her eyes. "Good luck," she whispered.

She didn't know why she said it. She wasn't a religious person. She didn't necessarily believe in an afterlife. Frankly, she didn't know what she believed. But in that moment, it felt like the right thing to say. She watched as Apollo's breathing finally stopped, and his eyes stared up blankly at the falling snow.

A cannon fired.

The tears in her eyes could be held no longer, and so they fell. Willow wept quietly over the body of a boy who shouldn't have died. Chester rested his hands on her shoulders and pulled her up. She sniffled and turned to face him. He was crying a little bit, too. "There was nothing we could do," he whispered. Willow nodded, unable to speak. She was so glad she had him. "Let's go inside."

Chester unzipped the tent and stepped back to usher Willow in when something caught his attention. "Look!" he said, sickeningly excited considering what had just happened. Slowly, Willow turned to see what he was pointing at. Though the snowflakes floated a gleaming silver container attached to a bright white parachute. While Chester scampered forward to catch it, all Willow could think was, if it's an antidote I am going to kill those sponsors if I make it out alive.

She flinched and immediately felt bad. New plan. I'm not going to kill anyone. Ever.

Willow slipped inside of the tent and waited for Chester to bring their sponsor gift inside. He came in, smiling through the tears that stained his face, and placed the container on the ground. He zipped up the tent and sat down. Carefully, he pried open the gift. A delicious smell filled the tent. "Stew!"

Her stomach growled and Willow smiled a little, but her gut ached. If it had only come earlier they could have stayed at camp and Apollo wouldn't have eaten the poisonous berries and they would all be sharing the warm food together.

"There's a lot of it," Chester said enthusiastically, oblivious to Willow's brooding. "If we ration it well it can last for a while. Come eat some."

Taking the spoon that Chester handed her, Willow dipped it into the steaming broth and took a bite. The effect was immediate. Warmth spread through her, heating up her chilled bones. Her skin tingled with the temperature change. She took another bite, grinning.

They didn't even notice the hovercraft that took Apollo's body away.