So its Friday! YAY! Guess what I get to do tonight. NOTHING. Why? Mom is going to the concert without me -_-

Anywho, on a brighter note, I get to see Avengers tomorrow? Are you guys going to see that? If you are, which of them is your favorite? Speak words to me, everyone! Haha, I'm excited. XD

One cannon fire. Two. Feral looked up nervously from where she crouched over her kill, a rather plump possum that had been napping on a low-hanging tree branch in plane sight. She was getting better at killing things, the tears rarely coming to her eyes anymore. But she burst out sobbing whenever the cannons fired.

Wiping her face, she quickly stood, grabbed the game and raced off through the trees. She had become more jumpy over the last few days. Everything had seemed so quiet. That had been the first deaths since Day Four when Robin had died. It was Day Eight.

She knew they would come for her and Zephyr soon. There had been plenty of romance between the two of them but almost no drama since Feral had bumped her head. From the lack of cannons over that time period it seemed to have been the same for the other tributes as well.

She was either getting more cautious or more paranoid, jumping at every sound and racing back through the trees to the cave at the slightest sign of danger. She was on edge whether the swamplands were too loud or to quiet. Every shadow hid a threat, every breeze masked movements. Zephyr's life and even her own were too precious to be careless with.

She ran all the way back to the waterfall and by the time she reached it she was so out of breath that she fell onto the floor of the cave in a tired heap. "Well, nice to see that cannon blast wasn't for you." Zephyr grinned, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Feral laughed halfheartedly in between the gasps for breath and held up the possum. "Wow! This will be enough to feed us for today and tomorrow. Good thing, too, it looks like storm clouds are moving in again." Feral nodded tiredly as Zephyr pulled out a knife and began to skin the possum.

Feral rolled over on her stomach and held one of the rocks in her hand. It was beautiful and flawless, its smooth grey surface allowing her hand to travel over it without hitting any abrasions or fractures. It reminded her so much of the rocks they had at home, the ones that could be found in the riverbeds that made an attractive clink sound when they bumped together. The rocks in the arena didn't make the same sound, more like a grinding noise like they were being worn down, and she had a theory that it was because the stones in District Seven were forest rocks instead of swamp pebbles. In her mind they were stronger, and harder to break down then the arena stones.

She missed her family tremendously. She missed her father's quiet and strong aura. She missed Pinn's young yet calm and intelligent voice and wish that it could reach her ears again. She missed Willow's timid and a bit naive outlook on life, how she thought that although things were sometimes scary they always turned out alright in the end. She missed Sage's sarcastic tones, and she even missed Tier's snappy remarks and fiery rage against the Capitol.

And she could finally understand Tier's rage. They had ripped her and twenty-three others away from their families and homes, the people and the places they had lived their whole lives with, and threw them into an arena to fight to the death. It was their sick, twisted way of staying in control and as her life would fade away they would laugh and eat in happiness, celebrating the success of yet another Hunger Games. It made her want to scream.

"I want to go home," Zephyr breathed as if he read her thoughts. He didn't make eye contact with her, just stared at the floor of the Crystal Cave. "I want to go back to District Eight. I dreamed last night that I was there, that the Hunger Games were over and done with. Everything was exactly the way I left it, the smell of the berries we use to make the dies in the air, the tired charm in everyone's voices. But I know better. If I do win this, nothing is ever going to be the same."

"I had a dream like that a few nights ago," Feral admitted. She hadn't even noticed that her hand had strayed to her mother's necklace where it caressed the silver leaf. "I was in the forest and everything was so real. All the leaves were perfect and the birds and crickets chirped in the background like they always do. You can't go anywhere in District Seven without them being there. I was walking down a dirt path and it emptied out of the forest beside my house. I went into the house and my family was there waiting for me. They asked where I had been and if I wanted some apples. They are my favorite you know, apples. Then I woke up. But for a moment I was there with them, again, safe and sound. For a moment everything was perfect."

Zephyr was getting restless in the cave doing nothing but waiting for Feral to return with their next meal. Feral told him how dangerous it was for them to say in the same place for so long, that soon one of the other tributes would find them. However he insisted that they stay, that the Crystal Cave was a safe haven. Everything they needed was so easy to find and their shelter was so perfect for them. He said it was a gift. Feral thought it was a trap, meant to lure them into becoming to comfortable.

She thought she heard something fluttering outside and went to investigate. A parachute had landed outside the cave, the first for her and Zephyr since the beginning of the Games. Hesitantly walking over to inspect it, Feral picked up the basket that was tied to it. Inside were two loaves of bread, but they weren't from anywhere she recognized. She had to stare long and hard at the crusty well-baked bread before she realized where it was from. District Six, the transportation district. Eve wanted them to leave.

"Zephyr," Feral said crawling back into the cave. He looked up from a spear that he was trying to carve out of a tree branch that had almost landed on him on Day Six. "We have to leave. Now."

"Why?" he asked slightly amused as if the idea were ridiculous.

"Look what our mentors sent," she said, holding out the basket for him to see.

"Its bread," he observed.

"Not just any bread!" Feral said in frustration. "This is bread from District Six, the district of transportation! I knew it was dangerous to stay here; they are trying to tell us that! We need to leave."

"Feral," he said slowly. "You might be right. But look, the day is halfway over; there would be no point in leaving today. We should spend the night where it's safe and wait until tomorrow to try and find shelter somewhere else. Storm clouds are moving in, remember? We should stay here another night."

"Fine," Feral said resentfully. She stood up. "But I'm going hunting again." Without waiting for a response she marched out of the Crystal Cave and sulked down the riverbank. At one point she thought she saw the bushes shake violently, but when she went to inspect them she saw it was nothing. She shrugged it off as a bird having a spasm, or something. Continuing on down the river she finally reached the marsh and stepped into the murky waters. She had been stalking around for fifteen minutes when she finally realized something was horribly wrong. Everything was dead silent and there was not a creature in sight.

That's when the cannon blasts began. First one, then two. Feral didn't know what it was exactly that sparked her panic state again, but she barely even realized she was running before she was halfway back to the cave. She went faster then she ever had before.

When she reached the Crystal Cave, Hera's dead body lay outside impaled with the spear Zephyr had been crafting. Tears burst out of Feral's ears at the sight of it but she didn't stop running. She pulled an arrow out of her quiver and loaded it into her bow as she leapt over the body.

She burst into the cave just as Teck stabbed Zephyr in the heart.