The arena was a swamp. They were surrounded by mushy dirt and tiny ponds that dotted the landscape. Towering trees from ancient times stood over them, with Spanish moss draped over their limbs. The entire arena seemed alive, animals darting everywhere, plants growing in all possible locations.
At first the tributes couldn't find the cornucopia. It wasn't in the middle of them like it usually was, and a quick look around told them it wasn't on the ground. Feral was the first one to look up. The cornucopia was suspended by a rope net high in the treetops. Looking around, the nearest tree that supported it was closer to Tinn then her, but it didn't matter. He wouldn't be able to see anything; she could easily get there before anyone else.
She noticed how the Game Makers had designed it so that you couldn't know what was in the cornucopia until you were up in the trees with it. She had no way to know if there would be a bow and arrows up there. Not only that, but once she was up there, she would have to fight her way down.
"Five…" said the voice. "Four… Three… Two… One…" The cannon fired, and the arena burst to life. When it sounded, Feral's feet were pointed straight at the tree. She burst out into a run and practically jumped into it.
She leapt from limb to limb and was a quarter of the way up by the time the others even got to the trunk. By the time they were a quarter of the ways there, she had reached the net. There it was, on the top of the pile, an oak wood bow and a full quiver. Her eyes light up and she flew over the net and up the pile until it was in her hand.
She slung the quiver over her shoulder and loaded an arrow. Merchan was at the front of the other tributes and had a hand on the net. She considered shooting him but as she took aim she knew she couldn't do it. Instead, she put the arrow back into the quiver, placed the bow over her shoulder and ran. In an instant she was soaring through the air. She landed hard on the branches in one of the neighboring trees, one that wasn't supporting the cornucopia, and almost lost her grip.
She clung tightly to the branch and glanced over at the net. Merchan had reached the cornucopia and her heart twisted in her body when he pulled out an axe. The other tributes were there as well, now, and getting their hands on whatever they could find. They crawled over the pile like ants; vicious ants that were fighting to the death.
Merchan cut someone's head off and Feral left immediately, not wanting to see any more. Dangerously, she leapt from tree to tree, until she couldn't hear or see the cornucopia anymore. She wasn't sure how long she stayed in that tree, hundreds of feet off the ground, but she at least stayed until the cannon sounded to acknowledge the deaths of the tributes that had been killed in the bloodbath. One… three… six… Six of the tributes had died already. That left eighteen to fight to the death over the upcoming days.
Feral knew she needed to find water and shelter before the sun set. It was a little past noon and the clock was ticking. Slowly and quietly she made her way down from the tree. After seeing a poisonous snake swimming by in the waters below, she decided that it would be better for her if she didn't walk through the marsh. Instead, she decided to continue to jump over it, hopping from tree to tree like a squirrel might. Glancing at the sky she figured out which direction was which. Randomly picking west, she set off, leaping through the trees.
While in a strong tree with thick limbs, she took a rest, leaning against the trunk with her legs dangling over the sides. A squirrel landed on the branch in front of her and Feral couldn't believe her luck. Batting back tears, she silently loaded an arrow and let it fly. It pierced the eye of the squirrel and it fell to the swamp floor, dead. She glanced around before climbing down from the tree, snatching the game and scrambling back up into the safety of the branches. Using the tip of one of her arrows, she skinned the poor creature until it looked absolutely hideous and revolting. She had learned from her father how to skin a dead animal, and she had also learned how dangerous, and not to mention disgusting, it was to eat a raw piece of game. However, the entire swamp seemed to be soaked. She had to climb dangerously high in the tree to find dry twigs that she could use to make a fire.
Climbing down from the tree she sat on a stump and started a fire on the ground below her. Impaling the squirrel with a broken limb, she roasted it over the fire like a marshmallow until it looked safe enough to eat. As soon as it reached that point, she quickly stomped out the fire. She had been nervous about starting it to begin with, fearing that the Careers or even any of the other tributes would see and go after her.
Using a thin vine she cut off the side of a tree she tied the squirrel to her belt and headed back into the trees. She traveled until she felt that she was far enough away from where she had started the fire that it was safe enough to eat. Leaning against the trunk of the tree, she cut off small pieces of the squirrel with her arrowhead and plopped them into her mouth. She frowned at the taste but forced herself to eat since she would need to keep up her strength. She only ate about half of it, knowing that she would need more food for later.
The sun was slowly beginning to set, and Feral knew that she would have to find shelter. There was not a cloud in the sky, which meant there would be no rain that night. She climbed higher in her tree and tried herself to a sturdy branch using her belt. She watched as the day faded and a beautiful bouquet of stars illuminated the night sky and reflected off the surface of the marshy waters like a rippling mirror. Crickets chirped throughout the arena so loudly she wondered if the sound would be forever echoing in her mind.
She watched through a break in the wall of leaves as the anthem played in the sky. She held her breath as it ended, wanting desperately to know who was dead and who was alive. Blade from District Two came up first, his young features being projected into the clouds. Next was the boy from District Five, dead as well. That meant that Rowan had survived the blood bath. Tears raced down Feral's cheeks as Tinn's face appeared in the sky. Sweet, cautious Tinn who had never done anything wrong in his life. She knew it would happen but it still hurt so badly. She choked back a sob by biting down on her hand. Tiff from District Eight appeared, her wild eyes leaving permanent marks on Feral's psyche. Merchan was still alive. The girl from District Eleven was dead, and so was the girl from Twelve. Everyone else was alive and hoping her face would be the next to appear in the sky.