The Hunger Games: Spoiled Sapling

by CragmiteBlaster

In the Hunger Games, you either win or you die. But during the Bloodbath, the District Seven Female only goes halfway towards defeat, feigning death as the carnage rages on. Spoiled and pampered all her life and with a Mentor who gave up on helping her right from the start, can Nettle prove Johanna wrong and show she's got what it takes to survive? Part of The Nameless Chronicles.

7. Day 7: Real and Not Real

Disclaimer: I do not own The Hunger Games. They belong to Suzanne Collins.

Note: Here we are, back for more at the one week mark in the Arena. Now, it got pointed out to me privately that the way the last chapter ended could be seen as fairly convoluted, and that's fair. Upon reflection, I cannot say I disagree. I know hindsight is 20/20, but I'd love to have that kind of clear view before I make the mistakes to begin with, lol. But, I've done some deep thinking and I think I can get things more or less neatly back on track. That's all I have to say really, so let's get started!

---

Pain. Nothing but pain. As soon as I begin to weakly stir, all that seems to exist is the pain that surges it's way through my body. I have no idea what it might be, but I'm afraid of what I'll see if I open my eyes. Everything feels so distant, like I'm floating while lying on wet ground. It hurts, so much I want to scream until my lungs are shrivelled and my throat is scorched.

...

Pain... wet... I can feel things.

It's a struggle, but slowly I open my eyes. I have no idea what I might see; maybe one or more of my limbs destroyed, or perhaps a stormy sky above me. I can hear the rain after all, and I am sure my legs are submerged. Am I partly in a river? I can hardly remember a thing, but I didn't fall in the water... or, did I?

I struggle to remember what happened as I continue to try and see around me past the immense blurring. Glimmer died, I remember that for a fact. Then, Marvel and Cato came back... the former of those two, he threw a tracker-jacker nest like a grenade.

I got stung. Twice, I recall it to be? Or maybe I'm wrong... but a few more than that and I'd be dead. Two or three times, I guess it was? Had to have been. So then, I must have stumbled around and... the rest is gone. I passed out - no idea how long - but why didn't I get killed while I was out of it?

Marvel wouldn't hesitate, Cato wouldn't... so, what happened?

I sit up, weary and feeling like my whole body is waterlogged. I guess it makes sense, as I can now feel that I'm sitting in some water. Kind of shallow, but certainly cold. The air is damp, a distinct musk hanging around in the air. To call it foul would certainly be undercutting things a fair bit.

I can't contain my shrill scream once my vision comes into focus and I get a proper look down at myself. I shake like a leaf as I look at the blood stains on my right leg. That has my breathing light and fast, but I soon find myself shaking all over when I see that a stick has pierced its way through my left arm. I pale at the sight of the blood. A tug at it has me hiss... it's embedded, though it seems not lethally so.

How could this have happened?!

I try not to cry, instead fighting back all the tears as I glance around the area I'm now in. For a few wild moments I start to wonder if I'm even in the Arena anymore. Is this... hell? No, that's crazy talk. Crazy. But, what else is there to explain what has happened here?

I cannot see the forest, or swamp if that's the more accurate term? The area I was at wasn't the most flooded of areas... I think? Unless of course the venom didn't make me notice it.

I shake my head a little. The stings! The venom might still be flowing through me as I think. Maybe this entire place here is nothing more than one big hallucination?

I reach out with my right hand, tracing it along the cave wall. It feels pretty solid to me... but, does that prove this is real? It could easily just be part of the hallucination; tracker jackers are known for their almost lethal venom and the power of the hallucinations they induce.

Real or not, I'm gonna find out what has happened here. How can I have gone from a wet forest to... this? It wouldn't be the first time that an Arena alters it's terrain day to day... but they'd never wait so long to do it. No, cannot be that.

I squeal in pain as I rise up. I grit my teeth as I try to steady myself, but it's a tough effort. You'd think after those ballet lessons father got me into that I would be a touch better at staying balanced, but it appears not. Ok Nettle, calm, calm... you can do this.

It's dark down here, but cracks in the rock above are letting what seems to be sunlight through. Better than nothing, certainly. I never did like the dark, and the Arena is just making me appreciate it all the less. In the dim light that I have, I can see the remains of what may have been a bush below me. I guess that, and the sharp rocks, explain where the stick in my arm and my leg wound came from... and the soreness all over too.

I look both ways down the cave and both ways lead on, rounding a corner. Water runs along the cave floor, shallow but with a notable current. Following the current might lead to a way out, though I cannot help but glance at where the current is coming from. It seems brighter that way.

I start heading back against the current and quickly I realise the water is a lot deeper than it seems. I don't dare take more than a few steps; if I go under, I'm not sure I'd be able to get back out again. But, standing here I can crouch and crane my neck to gaze up towards part of the cave roof up ahead.

Sunlight, perhaps from a sunrise judging from the colour of it. I must have been unconscious for hours... or, days! How many people are left alive?! I have no idea...

Not only do I know nothing, but I can't find my gear anywhere. Nuts... I had it, I had supplies and now they're all gone. The only things I have left are the tribute tokens I've been collecting.

I feel like I'm going to die in this place, more than ever. Maybe I should just sit down quietly and just... accept it. Maybe say goodbye; a camera would surely hear me, wouldn't it?

"Hello?" I say, softly. Light as my voice is, it echoes for a moment. "Is anybody there... anyone...?"

I slap myself with my good arm. The nerve of myself, even considering sitting down to await death!That would make the past several days of hardship and survival altogether pointless. No, I'll get out of here! ...Somehow. I'm not quite sure how I might do that, actually. I don't think that I can really climb right now; the twig in my arm surely makes it an infeasible option.

Not to mention, I'm not that good at climbing in the first place. No, I'll have to find another way up there, back up to...

Wait.

Wait just a moment.

As I sit on a large rock at the side of the cave, shuddering in pain, I think over the facts. My supplies are gone and I'm battered raw... but, I am alive which can only mean Marvel did not find me. There was no mistaking the sunlight I saw up there, so...

...

I'm under the Arena!

The ground must have broken somehow and took me down here with it. I guess the water broke some of my fall. No doubt the current carried me to where it was shallow - not like a small person like me is really gonna take much to be moved around - and that's where I've been for hours. Though, I have no idea as to how long that might be.

Not only that, but... how did the ground break? Can I even get out of here at all? Wait... if I am under the Arena does that mean I am out of bounds? Oh nuts, that's not good... nobody likes it when that happens, least of all the Capitol.

I remember a Victor that father spoke of from District 1 - I believe it may have been Platinum of the Forty Second Hunger Games - who got stuck beneath the Arena. She ended up winning by default as the last one ended up falling down a cliff and breaking their neck. The Capitol was angry over this fluke, as was District One themselves. I suppose they only accept a certain pedigree of tribute to be a Victor.

But, if they got angry at somebody from a loyal District for being out of bounds then what might they do to me?

I sit quietly for several long minutes, wringing my hands anxious. I need a plan, fast. The only option that is presenting itself to me is heading down the tunnel and following the flow of the water. But, I can only worry over what might be down there. I may be out of bounds, but don't Mutts come out from under the Arena? They might be lurking in the dark.

I resolve to move on, but first... the branch. Ok, ok, I can do this. I take hold of the branch and grip it tightly. Alright, on three.

One...

Two...

...Three!

...

AAARRRRRGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHH!

The caves echo from my scream. I wail, shivering as I sit hunched over clutching my throbbing arm. My cheek and the back of my neck already felt bad enough from the stings and that's before getting into my leg. But this, this must be hell. Aaaaahhhhhh...

As I sit shivering and gasping, I freeze when I hear something. I fear it might be a growl or a roar, but no, it's not that. Not footsteps either.

It's the sound of something... whirring? Huh? Now, whatever could that be?

I'm not wondering for long, as moment later the thing in question comes to a stop before me. It looks like a sort of metal ball floating in the air, supporting by a softly whirring propeller. Obviously a Capitol device, but one that I'm unaware to the purpose of. I just look at it for a few moments, uncertain and still wheezing in pain, my gasping heavy and strained.

Just as I'm about to reach out and touch it, I recoil in surprise as the device starts to speak.

"Attention Tribute. You are currently out of bounds of the Arena. It is considered an extreme crime to venture to an permitted location when you are strictly meant to remain within the Arena."

I pale, wondering if a gun might pop out of this device and shoot me. Just as I'm formulating a plan to either smash it or argue my case for my continued existence, it continues.

"However, it is also clear you did not end up here by deliberate intent. There has been a... technical issue, and the weight of the flood has weakened the terrain across the Arena, causing some ground to collapse in areas both flooded and not. You and two others fell into these caves. We have decided to be generous hosts and give you a time limit to be out of the caves and back to the surface. If by the end of this time limit you've not left the out of bounds area then the caves will be made to collapse upon you. An exit has been created specifically for you and the others. Good luck tribute, and may the odds be ever in your favour."

My mind races fast with all kinds of thoughts. How far away the exit might be, who might be stuck here too, the reasons for a cave system being down here - could there have been mines of some sort here before the cataclysms that led to Panem? - and how might the 'technical issues' effect the Games, but my thoughts are cut off as the drone says one more thing.

"You have one hour."

The drone leaves, quick as it arrived. I'm silent for a moment, thinking over all that has happened and still taking in deep breathes.

One hour.

One hour!

I get up as fast as I can manage to, and start to hobble along down the dark tunnel. It's the only way I can possibly go, and I shan't dilly dally. Not when I have a time limit and no way to keep track of it or nor any idea how far away my destination is. Or, indeed, where it is.

I lay a hand to my face as I move along, the hope within me starting to fade. I pause suddenly feeling something is stuck in my face. I wince as I pull it out, glancing at what it is.

A tracker jacker stinger.

I freeze. I've heard of tracker jackers plenty of times and seen them in past hunger games too; leaving the stingers in always makes the hallucinations worse. Nuts! They must have been in there for hours!

I quickly yank out the other stinger as well, feeling the sting on the back of my neck throb and practically leak from the sudden removal. I shudder, forcing back the pain as I limp onwards down the cave, sticking to the area where daylight seeps through the cracks.

Come on Nettle, you got this. Just keep moving, keep your ears alert and don't overthink. There's an exit somewhere, just gotta find it. I can only wish I knew anything about caves; nothing I can recall from training will help me here.

My survival rests upon my brains and intuition.

---

(Not long later...)

---

This would be so much easier if I had a flashlight or even a torch. Even just having the supplies to make a torch would be sufficient for me - how hard could it be, really? - but it appears I am not quite so lucky. I'm forced to settle for the miniscule daylight that gets through the cracks from above, barely enough to light the way or warn me ahead of time if a fairly deep section of water is coming up.

I shouldn't complain. I'm lucky to remain alive right now, falling when I did. I wonder, who else fell down as I have? Did it save them too, or make everything worse?

Irrelevant, as time continues to tick down. The pathway has, thankfully, not been particular labyrinthine. Just a winding cave without any branching paths, much to my relief. Though, I have no idea when it might end. It could be around the very next corner, or maybe miles away.

Shivering at the thought of a cave in, I press on.

I huddle myself as I stumble through the near-darkness. Much is from fear, but I cannot ignore the cold down here. My teeth are near to the point of chattering.

This is bad enough, but alas it seems the tracker jacker venom is not out of my system. I continue to hallucinate and even knowing it's not real doesn't make it any less creepy. The occasional moments of the cave turning purple are clearly not real, but every growl from the darkness has me shaking worse, not knowing if it may be a real mutt lurking and ready to attack.

Rounding another corner, my footsteps in the water making a light splash that echoes down the tunnel, I freeze.

This has to be a hallucination. There is no way this can possibly be real.

There just can't be... can there?

Of course not... and yet, it's making me rooted to the spot, too spooked to move.

The tunnel has become straight, but it's by no means a simple walk forwards. Sixteen people are filling up the path ahead. Some stand, some sit, a few pace and one sits sobbing but there's one thing that they all have in common.

They're dead.

Or, at least they should be. They must be!

After all, each of them had a cannon fire to confirm their deaths. But, despite not speaking to most of them it's hard to forget what the dead tributes looked like in life. They're all there, showing no signs of injury or bloodstains. They're as they were in life, if perhaps a little... transparent.

I take a deep breath in and out. Fear or not, I'm on a tight time limit and can't stop for anyone or anything. I start to walk down the tunnel of the dead, trying not to look at the ghosts of the deceased too much.

Whether they're real or not, they're all looking at me...

Most remain silent as I walk past them. Weldar glares, his arms crossed as he voicelessly grumbles. The girl from Four stands silently, her gaze lacking any of the humour or power it was held. The boy from Five sits with his knees drawn up, hiding his face. The girl from Six just gives me a look full of sourness. The boy from Eight stands slouched, hunched over with a sad expression. Lace just lays down, staring blankly at the ceiling. The boy from Nine, Miller I think he was called, looks at me almost enviously. The girl from Nine leers at me, huffing. The girl from Ten - Sable, right? - stands very still, her hands over her stomach and tears in her eyes.

It gets worse though as I walk past them. Glimmer snarls at me, her eyes practically ablaze. Actual fires start to burn in them, making me squeal and quicken my pace. That's when I see Rue, very still and staring very intently. I look anywhere but at her eyes as I stumble by, which leads me to seeing Thresh giving me a firm, cold look.

"You got me killed," he says.

I shiver, mumbling what may be an apology as I run past him. That's when I see Peeta giving me a gaze that could be deemed as disappointed.

"You set Cato off and made him kill me," he says, tutting. "Not good."

Katniss gazes at me, giving me one frosty glare.

"Why didn't you even try to kill those Career boys?" she asks me. "My sister will never see me again."

"You're not real!" I yell, fright surging through me. "None of you are real! You're supposed to be dead!"

I don't spare them another glance, forcing myself to keep running as fast as I can. I cry out as I try, falling down. I gasp out as I feel my knee scrape on the rough ground under the water. It didn't get through to the fabric, but my knee is already sore. It won't take much to make it flare up.

But, my hands land upon something. Feeling carefully I take hold of the object and lift it up.

It's hard to see, but there's no mistaking my axe. I guess the water carried it this far... it'll do. I'd rather have my medical supplies, but at least I can sort of fight now. Not amazingly though, not when it's hard to know what's real and not real.

I take a deep breath, keeping my feet moving as I rise up. Can't be far now. That's what I tell myself, for any good that it may do.

But I can't stop the dread in me when I come to Clove. She sits on the ground, her knees drawn up and... wait, she's crying. Clove, the knife toting crazy girl from Two, is crying.

I try to sneak my way past her, but she looks up at me with tear filled eyes.

"Why did you drown me?" she whispers, shivering. "It's so wet, so cold down here... I want Cato. I need Cato, now! I want to go home, please..."

I feel disturbed to see her in such a state, one I'd have have assumed to be possible or at least a sight I'd ever see. I force myself to remember it's just a hallucination and keep on the move.

But at the end of the tunnel there's one more ghost waiting for me.

Jason slowly looks up, turning his head towards me. For a moment, we just stare.

"We could've been great," he says, softly. "We... we could've..."

He shudders, stammering and twitching violently.

"I almost did it, almost got the kill," he mumbles, rapidly. "But then I saw him, the shadow man. He never leaves, he just won't get out of my head! Wherever I go, he is standing there, staring at me with blood dripping around him. Get out, get out!"

Jason smashes his head against the cave wall, sobbing. His head begins to break and become bloody, but he barely reacts to it. He's not real! He can't be!

But, this was just how he acted a lot back before we got here. I can't imagine the terror of schizophrenia, and I'm glad I won't ever have to.

"You have to get out of here, now! Go, go, go! Get out, out before the whole place falls apart," he says, sinking to his knees, sobbing into them as he draws them up. "Before you end up like the rest of us... like me."

Jason glances back the way I came from and wails in horror. I glance back and shriek, wishing I'd not looked.

The other fifteen dead tributes stare at us, blood pouring out of them from every orifice on their heads. The feelings of terror I'm feeling... it's indescribable. Only my screams do it justice.

As the ghosts begin to slowly move towards me, soaking the cave red, Jason grabs my leg.

"Run!" he yells, shaking madly. "Run, and don't come back!"

He twitches wildly and suddenly his neck breaks, leaving him gazing at me with his head at a horrible angle. I let out a hitched gasp, stepping back.

"There's only one thing you can do," he whispers. "...GeT oUt WHilE yOu StiLL CaN!"

I've been sprinting away for several long moments before I realise how quickly I've limped along and how much ground I have covered. My breath is light and as fast as a hovercraft in full motion. I have to get out!

It's one long trek to the exit and as I run along I fear I may never get out. It might be that there's no exit and I've already been dead since I woke up, unaware of my looming fate. It can't be much longer until the cave collapse. I swallow the bile, forcing myself to move faster.

I dare to glance over my shoulder, though now all I see is nothing. No sign of the dead tributes anymore. The hallucinations might be starting to wear off, though I won't assume a thing yet. Not with how the cave is starting to turn purple again.

My heart aches as I think of what I saw, the gruesome state of the dead. How can anybody justify such actions to be inflicted upon the youths of society?

"How could they do that to you, Jason. How could they do that to anybody," I whisper as I stumble my way along. "No child deserves the Arena! This is disgusting, this is... is..."

I have the good sense to shut up before I outright scorn the Capitol by name. That'd be a good way to get the mines to collapse on me right away, or perhaps cause something even worse to happen later on. Self-preservation keeps me silent, but after what I've just seen and all that I've witnessed beforehand... it feels wrong to say nothing.

Father has his position, of course, but he doesn't speak out. Mayor or not, he'd be tried with treason much like any common folk might be. But... this might be an ever so slightly crazy theory, but if I were a Victor and the mayor, then maybe I'd be able to gain a real foothold to do something. It'd take years and allowing for much loss of life until the day arrives, but if I could just gain power, keep it and direct it with precision...

That's later. Escaping the cave comes first.

As I stumble along I suddenly freeze, hearing the sound of footsteps. Are they another hallucination, or could this be something real? I have no idea which one is the reality.

Groaning.

Rapid footsteps.

Real or not real, I'm getting out of here either way!

As I make my way forth I think I can vaguely get an idea of where the footsteps are coming from. Not behind me, thankfully, but not in front of me either. It's... somewhere off to the side, as if through the wall. Is this proof it's not real, or is it another tunnel nearby?

The drone did say that I wasn't the only tribute who fell into this place...

I round a corner, full of desperation. I can only sigh in so much relief that my lungs are emptied for a moment.

Daylight, dead ahead!

I would assume this exit, or entrance depending on the direction you come from, only got formed because of the tributes trapped underground. Had nobody fell, I bet it wouldn't be there. Why would they just let us out of bounds? Sounds like a good way to make their nasty Hunger Games derail. I'm honestly just grateful that there a way out of here and they're not just crushing me into a fine paste without a second thought. Never thought I'd fee any gratitude to the Capitol, but anything is better than being dead.

I make my way towards the gaping cave maw leading to the surface. I sigh in relief, closing my eyes in a moment of content as the sunlight basks my face. Never again will I fail to realise just how wonderful being out in the sunshine truly is. A joy one cannot best appreciate until they no longer have it.

Though, I still feel awful both in mind and matter, so I might lose it forever if I fail to take heed and be careful.

Step one, get out of here.

Step two, hide in a bush and plan the next move.

I reach the exit, a step from freedom, and just... sigh, deeply. Relief like this cannot be overstated, to be perfectly honest. One the hallucinations finally stop and I locate food, water and medicine then I might feel like something resembling myself again.

That or maybe I'll stop feeling so terrified. My heartbeat is rapid and I'm still shivering all over. The things I saw in this underground cave won't leave me for an ever so long time. I shiver, thinking back to Jason's ghost and the way the other fall tributes were bleeding so very horrifically.

To say I'm on edge would be like saying the Hunger Games are a touch mean. It's a bizarre understatement.

Just as I step foot out into the overground once again I feel a hand on my shoulder.

NO!

"Nett-URK!"

I stare, horrified by what I have just done. It was reflex, it was pure reflex and fear. I never meant to do this, I never would've if I'd have known, honest!

Cinder sways on the spot, staring at me in a mixture of horror and heartbreak, an expression that matching my own. We'd be almost like a mirror image if not for our different facial features and hair colours...

...Or, if not for my axe that is now struck at least an inch and a half into the space right between her shoulder and neck. The blood pours out, quick and gruesome.

"Why..." she manages to say. "I..."

Her eyes roll backwards into her head and she falls backwards with a thud, laying crumbled upon her side.

The boom of the cannon brings me to action.

"No! No!" I scream as I quickly kneel beside her. "Not you, not now... I didn't mean this to happen."

It's empty words lacking meaning. My occasional ally and sometimes semi-friend is dead by my own hand and axe. Clove was self-defence, this was murder. It's all I can do to try and rationalise it as me being taken off of my guard.

The scariest part is that despite feeling guiltier over this kill than I did when I killed Clove, I don't feel as sick or disgusted. Maybe it's true, maybe it does get a little bit easier after the first time. I can only hope that I shan't get too used to this.

I can't help but shudder when I think of the Victor from Ten that holds the kill record. The girl who beat around twelve tributes to death with a rather solid shoe. I wouldn't want to go down that particular path of crazy.

A rumble brings me back to reality. Time's up, I need to move now. I grab my axe out of Cinder, ready to get moving... the part of me that cares for citizen welfare, bizarre as it may be in this case, keeps me from abandoning Cinder's corpse. Her family deserve to at least have a body to bury, not whatever paste might be salvaged from the rubble.

I'm already at the exit, so it's not hard to quickly drag Cinder out into daylight as well. A few moments after I've gotten us both outside and towards some bushes for cover the cave collapses, completely blocked off in moments.

The drone said other tributes fell besides me. Tributes, as in more than just Cinder. I stay silent, waiting another cannon to fire. Maybe a family will have to settle for gross, fleshy paste after all...

Silence is all I hear. I suppose whoever the third tribute to fall was, they've already gotten out a while ago. Perhaps they found another exit or came this way earlier. I glance around quickly, afraid somebody might be very nearby.

Nothing.

Alone - for now, at least - I sombrely look down at Cinder. She saves me from crocodiles, and this is the way she gets repaid. An axe to the neck.

I'll owe her family a serious apology on the tour. The pre-written message can kindly sod off. I'll make it much more personal and take full responsibility.

But until then, if I even live that long, I kneel down and gently cross her arms over and, with shaking hands, close her eyes.

"Sleep well," I say to her. "You were a credit to your District. An exceptional citizen. ...I didn't mean for this, I just hope you knew that before..."

I trail off, shaking my head. I'm wasting time. I didn't know her, not really. It doesn't make it any less wrong or terrible, but it does mean it makes less sense to be out in the open where anybody might attack me. With only an axe and some adrenaline, I'd be easy pickings.

I quickly search through Cinder's pockets for anything useful. Seems that, much like me, she'd lost a lot of her stuff too. Just a few meal-bars, a bandage and a small packet of some berries. Wait, hang on a moment.

Nightlock!

Why would Cinder be carrying these? I saw her easily pass the edible plants and insects test back at the training centre. Surely she'd know these are deadly? Even I know that, and I hardly get out these days. Unless... perhaps they were to be used to poison tributes? An ugly thought, but one that I cannot deny could be a decent tactic. Or, perhaps if things were looking terrible, a painless suicide.

Putting the berries away I keep looking and find one last thing. My heart feels quite heavy as I get up and start to hobble away into the depths of the forest, the object held firm in my hand.

Cinder's butterfly ring is back with me a second time, soon put in my pocket with the other tribute tokens.

---

(Later...)

---

It seems like the Gamemakers are starting to hold off on the rain. For the first time since the first few hours of the Games there isn't any rain, nor a mass of rain-clouds. It's a sunny day and one that, if not for the fact there are six other people who might be able to kill me if they see, I'd love to do some tanning in.

Only six to go. I can almost see Seven again, myself relaxing by the pool and soaking up some rays while Ranger... well, he's there too. I don't want to get too obsessed over returning home and letting my guard down, but it's hard not to. From twenty four down to only seven, assuming nobody died when I was unconcious; it may not even go on much longer. One can only hope.

While the low tribute number and lovely weather bring me some relief, this doesn't take away the fact I feel oh so very shitty after the fall I took. It can't remove my hunger or thirst either. After all, Cinder didn't have much. Most of the meal-bars are eaten and the bandage has been carefully applied to my leg.

Sore leg, pierced arm, cut shoulder... I hardly look elegant, my reflection in the water pools I pass tells me as much.

I'm not a princess, but perhaps a soldier. Soldiers survive, and not every tribute can survive for a week in these Games. Just seven, evidently. I think it's day seven anyway, but who can say for sure how long I was unconscious for? Clearly for a full night at the very least.

Anyway, even with the sun out for the day the Arena is still flooded badly. I can't help but wonder just how much ground is left for the last seven to walk on. It can't even be a quarter of the amount that it started as, certainly not.

I'm making my way up a dirt slope, one sunbaked and thankfully not slippy. This part of the forest must have gotten a lot of sunlight to dry up so quick; I bet it was muddy beyond belief just as recently as yesterday. Dry or not, I can't miss the distant lake I see from where I'm standing.

I can see two crocodiles in the water, slowly swimming lazy circles around each other.

I pant a little, swallowing down my saliva for what little hydration it may give me. I feel bad, but at least the hallucinations seem to have finally stopped. I shan't miss those horrifying visions.

I cheer upon making it to the top of the slope. The sight I see is truly unmistakable; I've seen these things both in the training centre and back in Seven. Blackberries! Entire bushes of them, too. I remember having tasted them many times before. A quick way to satisfy hunger, and best of all the juiciness might keep thirst at bay for a while.

I rapidly grab the blackberries into my hands, stuffing myself with a distinct lack of manners. I feel certain my Escort would be tutting at the sight, but I never cared for the man particularly much.

"Life is beautiful!" I sob out, overjoyed that I'm actually able to eat something nice.

I can't fully relax though. As nice as it'd be to rest in the sunshine and sleep off the berry feast I can't shake the nerves that I might be being watched, or could be snuck upon at any time. Whether it's a crocodile or another tribute, neither are preferred nor wanted.

Plus, I need something for this arm wound and my leg. It's not totally destroyed my ability to use that arm or walk properly, but the pain isn't easy to ignore and if infection sets in... it'll be every so bad, to be perfectly frank. Victor's have lost limbs and still won in past Games, such as Chaff from Eleven... but he was powerful and really big. I'm tiny.

I'd rather just keep all of my limbs attached, please and thank you.

After the bushes have been picked clean, at which point hunger and thirst are no longer plaguing me, I get up to keep on the move. A light rain shower has begun, thankfully one of little force. Certainly nothing close to the downpours of days gone by. As I walk along - naturally, the exact opposite direction of the crocodiles - I try to catch some raindrops in my mouth.

That, and I try to forget about the murder I committed barely over three hours ago. It feels worse, because unlike Clove I had actually gotten along with Cinder. Then again, maybe she'd have been more than ready to kill me if it came down to it. Perhaps I am being a touch oversensitive.

Or maybe I still have some form of humanity left within me. Maybe the hurt I feel is a sign I'm not too far gone from remaining as the young woman I entered this arena has. Not yet, at least.

I cease my movement as the telltale sonar of a sponsor enters my ears. I look around, spotting it quickly. It glides down towards me and I can see already that, per the norm, there are no supplies coming with it. Just a note.

I sigh, wondering what Johanna may have to say to me this time. I can't imagine it would be anything particularly good; when is it ever good news when it comes to Johanna Mason?

As I start to read the note I can only wince, my suspicions proven right.

-Walking Corpse.

Are you kidding me? Are. You. Fucking. Kidding. Me? You had a prime chance when on that boat to take out Katniss, Cato and Marvel all in one go. You'd have proven yourself a true contender if you had just threw the damn landmine at them. Even just trying to do so would've make you a sponsor favourite. But no, you pass up any chance you get for some bullshit, 'human' reason and only survived because the Arena is falling apart in some places. You're hopeless, a District disgrace.

Well, screw this. I'm out. I officially quit being your Mentor and instead accept the position of drinker at a bar. Blight is taking over from now on, not that you'll live long enough to get any sponsors nor would you receive them anyway. May the odds be ever in your favour.

Johanna fucking Mason.-

I silently let the note fall to the ground, my mind swimming with hundreds of thoughts. Johanna's ditched me. She's said such scathing things! ...In some ways she is absolutely correct.

I start to chuckle, which becomes a mad giggle and soon enough I've gone from a loud laugh to near hysterics. One might think I am going crazy. Honestly, one might be accurate to make such a guess.

I'm not even sad, just kind of in shock. Though really, I don't see it mattering that Johanna has ditched me. She was never there for me in the first place, so I don't see this remotely changing my odds of winning. Maybe Blight would be a better Mentor; he'd put his own tribute before me, but I can see him at least trying to maybe sort of help me, unlike Johanna.

"Fine, leave me then," I say, sniffing in a way perhaps overly snooty. "Or, are you leaving? That would imply you'd even been here for a moment, Johanna. When I get out of here, we will be having words."

Silence is my only answer. Well, silence besides the gentle rainfall. It pitter patters around the forest, a gentle howl of wind passing through as the rain strikes the leaves of the trees with a noise that doesn't quite match the gentle way it falls.

Walking on, after hiding the parachute in a bush of course, I ponder where to go next. Spotting a distant grassy mountain I make my choice in an instant. If the water keeps raising - and if they figure out how to do it without destroying the Arena - then that'll be where the last safe ground shall be located. And even if it doesn't end there, it's the high ground. I'd see people coming.

I can only hope that nobody will be there, able to see me moving in. But, if I am gonna get out of here, I'll almost certainly have to make a third kill. Might as well get myself in the proper state of mind to do what must be done. The nightlock in my pocket would make it painless for them... if nothing else, it'd not plague my conscious quite as much.

I got given a second chance after my foolish hesitance. I won't hesitate again, not when I've seen just how easy it is to lose almost everything if you do.

I just hope that somebody might sponsor me something for this arm wound. It's ever so sore.

---

(Time passes...)

---

It was a fitful, uncomfortable slumber but at least one where I wasn't disturbed. Opening my eyes and holding back a yawn, I blink my eyes a little and take note of the world around me once again.

The inside of the log looks the same as it was several hours ago. Dirty and grimy to high hell. But, it's a good hiding spot. I guess few tributes would think to look inside a log as only myself and Urchin, probably, can fit inside them. Makes it a great place to take a nap.

Having rested for a while I feel a lot more refreshed, though certainly no more cheerful than I had been before. At least now I can think a lot clearer, lacking fatigue or any venom within me.

I poke my head out of the log and, seeing that the coast is clear, I drag myself out of it and into the open once again. Seems like everything is much the same as it was before I hid myself and slept. A deep area of the forest, the ground covered in clovers as far as the eye can see and many an imposingly tall, twisted tree dotted around. The water hasn't flooded this section of the forest just yet, but it's truly only a matter of time I would suspect.

"Not the worst sleep ever," I yawn, standing and stretching myself out. Ahhhh, that feels nice. "Ok, what next..."

With all my allies separated from me - or dead while I was out of it, as I cannot assume this to be impossible - it all rests on me to get things done. With just seven, at most, of us left it's not going to last very much longer. All but one of us might be dead in as few as two days. I just have to be that one.

I try to ignore the throbbing in my leg, arm, shoulder and heart as I consider my endgame plan. It's not uncommon for a Hunger Games to end up at or nearby the Cornucopia, but as that's below the water now it could really end anywhere. High ground, more likely than not, and I guess that makes it all the better I was going there anyway.

I think the best move now is to get there first and set up some kind of a fort to stop anybody reaching me too easily. Though, who might I end up having to face when the so-called finale arrives and the grim shit truly hits in the fan? Which option is the most feasible for me to win, or at least the option of the least agony?

I think over my competition as I walk along, taking head to keep my steps quiet just in case. Even now, they could be getting near me and all I have is a battered body and an axe for defence. Not the best of odds, even if perhaps not the worst either.

Marvel, absolutely not. He's almost killed me more than once and came so close last time... he has no supplies now, but that tracker jacker gear could also function as light armour. Even with his supplies all gone, he'd be a truly deadly opponent. Worse yet, a foe who is coming after me specifically... indeed, he is perhaps the worst tribute to go head to head against.

Cato, I similarly would prefer to never ever see again for as long as I live... as in, up to when I leave this deadly place. With his size, his muscles and how violent his fits of rage can be... I gag, sickly as I think back to the way he beat Peeta to death. I'd have no chance against him whatsoever. The only mercy is he might not draw it out as much as Marvel, and perhaps his rage could be exploited.

Gadget is, so say the odds, the weakest tribute physically and even with how she towers over me I think she'd be easy to kill... if not for those landmines she's lugging around. They give her one hell of an advantage. Plus, killing the younger tributes just feels all kinds of gross to think about.

Urchin is even smaller than I am and I think I'd be able to overpower him pretty easily. He scored an eight but, well, he's still twelve. But he's one solid swimmer, being from Four, and that might give him an upper hand. Plus, killing a kid... I know I said I'd not hesitate, but crossing that sort of a line is a terrible feeling. But, better than that death I suppose. At least I'm still allied with him and Gadget so they'd be unlikely to kill me if I find them soon.

Wood... we've had our ups and downs but he's from my District. You don't kill your District Partner. You just don't. Not until only two are left, and at that point Wood no doubt won't hesitate to unleash a frenzy of spear-tipped pain right into me. I just think it'd be altogether insane to kill one of my own citizens. Well, father's citizens but the point stands nonetheless. He'd overpower me anyway.

Rammy, the powerful boy from Ten. No allies at all and yet he's still in this thing. A bit bloodied last I saw him, but I don't think it'd keep him down for particularly long. Not only is he strong, but unlike the Careers I think he might be able to keep alive off of the Arena wildlife and plants. Maybe he's a bigger danger than them now. I mean, as my shoulder wound can attest to... he's no slouch in the art of beating people up.

"Well, that got me nowhere," I can't help but mutter as I gently slide myself down a steep dirt hill, harmlessly reaching the bottom. "They're either too big and dangerous, or so young I'd feel so awful I dare not imagine it. Nuts."

...I guess pragmatically, I'd hope for Urchin. I guess the obvious answer, then, is to search him out and make sure he stays alive until the end with me. At that point, well, I just have to hope he won't get me off guard before I could swing the axe.

I'd make it quick.

I walk on aimlessly for a while, my only focus being getting myself towards that distant mountain. Most likely the others may be heading that way too, and if I can find Urchin along the way then that just makes it all the better.

I come to a quick pause as I enter another clearing amongst the deep forest. A blackberry bush with half of the berries picked off catches my attention quickly, but then my attention is off of it just as quickly when I see what litters the ground of the clearing.

Mutt corpses. All around here lay a whole flock of grotesque silver and cyan birds. As I carefully step over and around them towards the berries I don't fail to miss the fact their wings are razer sharp at the tips.

The blood - most likely from a human, I would assume - that stains the wings of some of them has me retching in seconds. I hold down the vomit as best as I can and pick berries to eat. I can't help but adore them; after what I have been through, being able to eat fine blackberries is practically the height of luxury.

Glancing at the dead Mutts I can't help but wonder who killed this many of them. They'd have to be every so strong to pull it off.

The spear wounds I see in the bodies makes my heart skip a beat. Marvel!

Despite my panic as I glance all around me I remain just barely calm enough to recall an important fact. Wood also has a spear. He may have come this way too, and perhaps... maybe he'd let me talk? Apologise for ditching him, at least. It felt like the correct decision in the moment, but I just don't want him thinking I hated him or wanted him to meet his death.

I mean, I guess if technicalities are used I suppose I do on some level, if only so I can go home. I'm sure he'd feel the same in this way.

Looking around for any sort of clue my eyes eventually gaze in the direction of some shredded fabric on the ground. Of course, it could only be from a tribute's outfit. What other clothing is there in the Arena? It doesn't look like something off of a blanket or backpack, so tribute clothing is all is could really be from.

I hold my breath as I slowly hold it up for a closer look, bracing myself for the fright that will ensue if I see the avocado green that is the signature colour of District One.

It's not.

Instead, russet brown is the colour that I am seeing on this piece of fabric. I pause, raising my brow as I glance down at my own clothes. Perhaps it's true that the dirt and water has ruined them a but, but some of the original colour remains. One glance tells me all that I need to know; it's a perfect match. Wood must have come by this way! But... how long ago?

It feels so sick, gross, nasty, horribly sick... ahem... bad as it is, I carefully tap my finger against one of the blood soaked, sharp wings of a dead Mutt. Not enough to hurt myself, but enough to get a small splat of the blood onto my finger. I heave a bit, trying not to be sick from the mere sight of blood as I slowly feel it about between my finger and thumb.

It's still wet!

As many would know, blood dries if it is left out to the air for too long. An hour or so, if I recall what that trainer back in the Capitol mentioned. The thing is, this blood is still wet. Fresh. Certainly not spilled particularly long ago.

Wood might still be nearby, possibly in bad shape. I quickly wipe my hand on the ground to get rid of the blood, muttering over how insanitary it all is. Getting up, I look around for any clues as to where Wood may have gone from here.

Footprints give me quite the clear indicator. I'm quickly on my way, limping along as quick as I can. I'd run, but I think I'd be better off if I saved me energy. Besides, I don't think Wood will be running particularly fast if he's been hurt. I wonder, also, if he may have fallen into the caves as well...

I guess I'll ask him when I see him. I'm sure, much like always, he'll have quite a few things to say. Perhaps some particularly harsh words too. Well, I'll take it with my head held high. I may have been a touch bitchy before.

"Ok Wood, where have you gotten to," I whisper, walking along and keeping my eyes open. I can't afford to miss a thing going on around me.

---

(Not much later...)

---

The day is passing quickly, the mid-afternoon sun quickly turning into a near sunset. I'd say it won't be a full two hours before darkness descends. I can only hope I'll find a decent place to rest in that time. The grassy mountain looms nearer, but it'll still take me a while to reach it. That's fine. At least it could be argued that I am getting plenty of exercise...

I can't help but feel uneasy in my trek through the deepest parts of the forest. The clover that covered ground has vanished, instead leaving behind a surface of many, many weeds. Not just that, but all the trees around here are ever so creepy. Macabre incarnate. Their bark is dark and gnarled, and what few leaves they have look half eaten. I thought one of them was watching me for a moment, but perhaps it was just my imagination running away with me a bit.

The footprints have vanished into the weeds, but now I've got a new sort of trail to follow. One made of blood, a new splatter staining a tree here and there. Much like the blood on the Mutt wings, it's fresh. Wood must be in bad shape... that, or he has a pain threshold beyond anything I'd assumed to be possible. I've seen stranger things at this point.

I want to call out for him, just in case he's nearby. Thing is, anybody - or anything - might be nearby too, and giving myself away certainly wouldn't end well. Only in severe pain.

"Come on, give me a sign," I whisper as I pass through the area. "Is he close?"

A panicked scream fills the forest around me. I'd call it convenient, but there is the issue of how it means Wood is in danger and... nuts...

I gotta move!

My leg feels nasty as I sprint along through the woods. I clearly need much more than a bandage for my leg, but maybe it can wait for a while. It just has to. One of my citizens is in danger! I just hope I'm not too battered to be able to put up a decent fight.

Wood screams again, sounding a bit choked. This gets me running even faster towards where he must be located. Not far now... hang in there Wood. I'm on my way!

As I race up as best I can to the top of a slope I hear the sound of two boys yelling and shouting, one clearly more pained than the other. The pained voice I, of course, know to be Wood. The other one takes me a few moments to recognise. I'm at the top of the slope before I can recall it. At that point, the sight below tells me all that I have to know for the looming battle.

Wood desperately fights against Rammy, trying his hardest to use his spear to strike at Rammy and deflect the boy from Ten's attacks. It's clear to me, though, that Rammy has got the upper hand here with how Wood's prior injuries can't be making things easy for him to focus. That massive axe of his is proving to be more than Wood can deal with, one particularly hard downward strike snapping the spear cleanly in half.

"End of the line, partner," Rammy says as he swiftly kicks Wood to the ground.

I should think not! I start to charge down the slope as fast as my small legs can carry me. I honestly never knew that I could be so quick on my feet.

"Get lost, get lost, get lost!" Wood screams, his voice high and hoarse, sweat pouring down it just like blood pours down his left hip. "No!"

"Nothing personal from my end," Rammy says, a foot laid upon Wood's chest as he raises up the axe.

Wood pales, but then his eyes suddenly rest upon me as I spring closer. I don't miss the flicker of relief, glee even, which appears in his eyes.

I would make a statement here for some effect, perhaps demand Rammy to leave my citizen alone or to prepare himself for the power of a politician. But, that'd just give me away and give him a chance to fight back and perhaps kill both Wood and myself.

I think slamming my axe down into his shoulder is a much more effective way to announce my presence. His blood curdling scream confirms I was right.

Rammy staggers in agony, stepping off of Wood and dropping his axe to the ground. I reach to grab my axe out of his shoulder but he's already gotten himself out of range. I take the chance to snatch up his own, much bigger, axe and hold it tightly. I seethe, my eyes narrows into a dangerous look that might make me appear to be a tad crazy. Ok, more than a tad to be honest.

"AARRRGGGGGGHHHHHH!" Rammy's scream makes my ears throb from the volume. My gut tightens horribly when I see the leaking blood. So gross... "Nnrrrggh! Shit, shit!"

He yanks the axe out, screaming again. His whole body shudders and writhes as he tries to hold it, turning to face me. He frowns, paling a bit when he sees I'm holding his axe and looking at him coldly.

Don't hesitate. Not again.

"You," he whispers, gritting his teeth.

"Me," I confirm. "Seems Wood and I hold the advantage here. Your move Rammy; run and hide, or stay and die."

Wood staggers back to his feet beside me, cursing and muttering about how his soul feels broken. How very grim. He takes a knife from his pocket, shuddering in pain as he points it towards Rammy.

We stand in a silent stand-off for a few long moments.

"You're strong," Rammy says, giving me a short nod despite the agony he must feel. "But you're still small and-."

"Time's up!" I say, coldly.

Don't hesitate.

I lunge forwards, bringing the axe down. Rammy saw it coming, only just, and leapt backwards out of the way. Holding his free hand to his bleeding shoulder he keeps stepping backwards.

"I know a lost battle when I see one," he says as he turns and sprints off into the forest without looking back.

I'm ready to try and throw the axe at him, my high state of adrenaline overriding my sense of unease over murder, but I'm distracted from this plan when Wood kneels over in pain. Between Rammy and my citizen, I pick the latter. I don't feel right leaving Wood here in pain, and I think Rammy is running off faster than I could keep pace with anyway. With him being hurt badly I don't think he'll get far.

"How can I help?" I ask, kneeling beside Wood.

He takes a few deep breathes, gesturing to his fallen backpack that lays a few feet away.

"Blue jar," he rasps out.

I'm quick to obey, grabbing it out of his backpack without delay. Wood removes his jacket and shirt and all I can do is flinch at the sight. Cuts are there, no doubt caused by those dead bird mutts I passed earlier. A few welts and bruises are visible too, and an axe wound to his left hip. Despite all the pain, Wood manages to give me a wolfish grin.

"I know I'm good looking and I don't mind if you're gonna stare, but just remember you have a boyfriend and I kinda don't have much use for the feminine tributes if you get my drift," he says, snickering in spite of the pain.

"Oh, come off at," I huff, unable to hide my amusement. "Ok, this... will probably sting? I'm not sure. Just brace yourself, ok?"

"Sure," he says, relaxing himself and becoming still as a statue.

Some time passes in this way, Wood hissing from the stinging ever now and then while I apply the mixture from the blue jar as best as I can. I have no idea what it does, exactly, but whatever the purpose of the mixture on a technical level it's doing its job fine. Wood's cuts are already looking much better, the leaking blood cleared away and the cuts themselves starting to close up. I toss the empty jar to the side, laying on my back.

I let out a deep sigh, just laying quietly for a minute while Wood redresses and becomes just as quiet. It's hard to know what to say next, really.

Actually, no. After maybe a minute and a half I know just what to say.

"I'm sorry I ditched you," I tell him. "Sure, it felt good for my own chances and I wasn't happy over you trying manipulate me, but... it's a very stressful situation we're in. I judged you way too harshly."

"And here I was thinking you just thought I was ugly. It did damage to my very delicate disposition Damage you wouldn't believe," he says, chuckling.

"Oh sod off..." I groan, smirking a bit as well. "Still... we good?"

"As good as any pair of tributes can be," he says, nodding. He even smiles. "...I mean, choosing two kids over me kinda hurt me go, but whatever. I've had worse happen. Like these stupid bird mutts that got me."

"I saw the bodies," I say, nodding warily. "That was a lot to put upon one tribute. You piss off the Gamemakers or something?"

"Only if they feel jealous of my looks," he says, shrugging. "I've been killing mutts to keep sponsors interested. I asked for them to send a few."

"Be careful what you ask of others," I say, shaking my head.

"Yeah, I know that now," he huffs. "That guy just came out of nowhere. I had no idea he was in the area."

"Maybe he fell under the Arena and came out from the exit I did?" I suggest to him. "That happened to me too. The flood is making the Arena fall to pieces in some areas as the ground cannot take the pressure. I fell down there and so did Cinder."

"Cinder?" Wood asks me.

"Girl from Five," I say. I grimace, thinking of her nasty death earlier today at my own hands. "Maybe Rammy fell down, reached the exit first and... well, jumped you. Good thing I was here."

Wood nods, tiredly sipping some water from a bottle. He wordlessly offers me the bottle and I accept it, chugging it down.

"Thank you," he says, as sincere as I've ever heard him be. "Panem almost became an even worse place. Just think, no more me. But seriously, you saved me... thanks. You really came through for me... you could've just let him kill me and then killed him right after, but you saved me instead. You really are unusual."

"I'd call myself a patriot for Seven. I mean, what kind of a mayor-to-be just lets one of their people get slaughtered in the dirt?" I ask, sitting myself up. "I may have issues hesitating to take action and maybe complaining a lot, but I'm not letting a citizen of Seven just die on me."

Wood looks me over, nodding to himself. He pats me on the back, smiling as he chuckles.

"You know Nettle, I once thought you were just a tiny, spoiled princess who never really got out much or had the most intriguing of personalities," he tells me, thoughtful. "But now..."

"Yeah?" I ask.

"I see you're all that and so much more"," he says, teasingly.

"Humph! Cheeky git!" I pout, turning up my nose at him.

"Hey, I never said I was an angel," he shrugs, winking. "I'm just saying, you're more than people tend to give you credit for. I assumed you'd die early - I honestly thought you had before I noticed you were not in the death anthem - but you're still here. Strong with words, strong with heart, strong enough to smash an axe into that guy's shoulder... you're a warrior."

"Oh, stop..."I mumble, blushing at the praise. It's not often I get my ego stroked like this and, shy as I feel over it, I can't help but appreciate it. "I got very lucky though, you know? I mean, if the Arena hadn't started to collapse... yeah."

"I can't judge that considering how if you had died I'd also be dead," Wood says, shrugging. "Besides, uh, plenty of Victors have gotten seriously lucky. I can think of like ten offhand that did. You're hardly the most lucky tribute there ever was. Maybe top fourteen if I am being generous."

"That... is also a point," I agree, slowly nodding. "Remember Spud Munroe, the boy who won the Games with the spiked maces?"

"Yeah... lucky bastard," Wood agrees. "We both got lucky today."

"...It did bring us closer though, didn't it?" I say, smiling as I scoot closer to Wood. "I like this, being able to really bond with one of my citizens."

"Aw shit, are you turning this into a thing?" he asks me, groaning playfully.

"I am not! I'm just being nice!" I insist.

"You're totally making this a thing," he groans.

"Am not!" I huff.

"I see a sparkling tear in your eye," he says, flatly.

I wipe it away quickly from impulse.

"Just some dust," I say, swiftly.

"If you start crying and then hug me I will pretend to not know you," he warns me.

It's not long before we're both laughing. Soon, we rise and move over to sit on a nearby log. Wood willingly shares out some of his food and water. It's so good! As he tends to my arm wound I repay him with information.

"So, Cinder's gone?" he asks, considering this. "Honestly, not like she was the biggest threat or ever would be, but one step closer to the end either way. Who else is left besides Ten? Use numbers not names, it makes it easier in the end."

"Boy from One, Boy from Two, Girl from Three and Boy from Four," I say to him. I can't keep their names out of my mind though... Wood has a point, knowing their names just makes it harder to do what must be done. "Those Careers are fearsome. Even without any supplies they're gonna be tough."

"Not just that but Cato is objectively hot. Too bad his personality is shit to the point I'd choose a mutt over him," Wood says as he finishes fixing me up. "Feel better?"

"A bit, yes," I reply. "So, I'm thinking we could head to the grassy mountain. If the flood gets worse and the Gamemakers work out how to stop parts of this place collapsing from the weight of it then that'd be the last place the water would reach."

"Works for me," he says, getting to his feet. "I was gonna be going there anyway because, duh, what you've said is great common sense. Let's roll."

---

(Later...)

---

The golden glow of the sunset is cast down upon us. Rain clouds are moving in, starting to cover the sky once more. Either we're due more flooding and they got the Arena under control, or Seneca has decided that he doesn't care if the Arena starts to collapse any more than it already has. Father says the man only has showbiz on the brain, so it doesn't strike me as a stretch for him to decide 'screw it' and just keep going as he has been.

Wood and I have been walking along for a while now, hoods up and weapons held tightly. His spear might be gone, but Wood clearly isn't the sort to carry around just one weapon. Or, perhaps not only two because it's not his knife that he is holding. It's a hatchet, much the same kind as the one I used nearer the start of the Games.

I can't help but feel glad I grabbed the bigger, better axe before Wood could. I feel much safer holding it in my own hands.

"We should stop for the night soon," I say to Wood. "There's only seven of us left. The finale may happen sooner than later, and we'll need to be rested."

"Let's give it another half hour," he replies. "The closer we are, the better."

I don't argue the point, just nodding and continuing to follow along beside him. He's right, the closer we are the better off we shall be. Less distance to run if it's flooded and more chance of being the first ones there. I still hope that Urchin could be my last opponent, but if I'm allying myself with Wood for the long-haul now... well, I can work with that. I think he's still in more pain than he is letting on, so maybe I could win a duel?

"So, final eight is when they do family interviews right?" Wood asks.

"That's correct. By now they'll have probably finished recording them, or be close to doing so," I say, nodding. "More than likely any footage of Cinder's family interview will be cut."

"Makes sense," Wood says. "What do you think our families said? I think ma and my brother would be pretty supportive and worried for me. Ma would no doubt get a few sponsors interested in me and Bramble, who's awesome by the way, probably did his best to make another tribute come off worse. Maybe I'm wrong, probably not, but... I guess I just miss them."

He trails off for a moment, shaking his head.

"What about you?" he asks me.

"What about what?" I reply.

"Your family. Any ideas what they'd say?" he asks, curious.

"Well, father is the only family I have," I say, frowning forlornly. "Mother died quite a while back and, well, we're distant. He has all his responsibilities that require his time and I just stay in the manor a lot; it's just a gradual thing between us. A gradual lack of anything. I'm sure he loves me, but it sometimes feels e hardly know each other. I think I could've done a lot better as a daughter, y'know? Maybe spent more time with him, ask if I could've went with him to work, do some work around the manor for him. I don't know, this is probably awkward to hear."

"Ah, don't worry," Wood assures me. "It's far, far worse."

"Ruffian," I huff. "So yeah, I don't know what he would say."

"How about your boyfriend?" Wood asks me. "Two questions; is he hot and, less importantly, if you're in the house a bunch how did you guys meet?"

I can't help but blush a bit, thinking of the man waiting for me back home. I just hope it won't end up as an eternal wait.

"Firstly, he's hot. Like, triple as hot as you," I tease, giggling.

"Impossible!" Wood gasps.

"No, really, he is," I say, fanning myself. His muscular arms, his windblown and oh so smooth brunette hair, that natural tan... "As for how we met, well, he's a lumberjack as you may well guess. Father hired several lumberjacks to cut down a section of forest near the property - I think it was getting in the way of a statue or something, I don't remember - and Ranger was one of them. I was thirteen, he was fourteen and I couldn't keep my eyes off of him. I was, uh, kind of starved of social interaction and hadn't seen a boy up close in some time. Uh, anyway..."

I stammer for a moment, trying to regain my train of thought. Oh, how ever so awkward this is right now. But, that's love. It's awkward all the way.

"So, anyway, I sat on the porch and just watched the men work for a while. The porch became a rock nearer to them and that turned into a log even closer. Ranger came over to introduce himself and... we just talked. No social stigmas, no thought of 'it's the lazy mayor's daughter', just a nice talk together. He had to go eventually, but it wasn't like the job could be done in just one day so he kept coming by every day for two weeks. Sometimes we'd talk, sometimes I'd bring him some water or food he'd not be able to buy otherwise. After bonding and just getting to know each other it was only normal we'd get along and start to get attached."

"Sounds nice," Wood admits. "Nothing flashy like I was expecting, but... nice."

"Not every romance has to be over the top and jaw dropping," is my response to him. "One day I was bringing him out a tray of cookies I'd baked. Maybe they weren't, uh, appetizing but I'd really wanted to do something nice for my friend. Well, one lumberjack hadn't chopped one of the trees correctly. A tad overeager to finish his shift, that one. The tree would have crushed me as it fell, but thankfully Ranger swooped in to save the day. He tackled me out of the way just before it was too late. The cookies were ruined, of course, but I hardly cared. I was just glad to be alive!"

I can't help but smile, remembering how I'd gotten a tad overeager and peppered his face with kisses in gratitude for that heroic action. Of course, I'd been so relieved at the time I hadn't quite realised the... little issue that had happened to Ranger.

"The tree hit Ranger's leg pretty bad. The short of the matter is that he had to have a metal one built and put in its place. Luckily, father had it all sorted out. It was hard for him, having to learn to walk all over again, but I was there to help him every step of the way," I say. Those were the days... very personal and close. I was so very dedicated to paying him back for keeping me safe. "It wasn't much longer after that we started to properly date."

"He loses a leg, but gains a girl... hm, I've heard of worse trades. Like, the trade of food in return ro your name being in the bowl more times," Wood remarks. "Sweet story though. Never heard it myself, but I guess it's no wonder. I'm nowhere near your area. But, with how Ranger has a fake leg does that mean he's able to work with the other lumberjacks?"

"Father has him under a special contract to work with the other lumberjacks we have as long-term staff," I tell him. "Keeps us close and happy. I want to get back to all, so badly."

"Maybe you will," Wood says, lightly. "But, a question... a serious one."

Wood pauses, his expression nothing short of deadly calm.

"Have you guys ever had a romp in the woods?" he asks, suddenly grinning wolfishly.

"WOOD!" I screech, eyes wide. The nerve of this young man! The pure nerve, I say! "That's personal! And... and no, no we jolly well have not!"

He just laughs, having no regrets. I guess I should've seen that coming. I try to keep up my pout, but his laughter is quite contagious and soon I giggle a bit.

"Sorry, not sorry," he says, smirking. "Anyway, maybe you'll see him again soon enough."

"I sure hope so. Honestly, I don't feel like I've even began to repay him for how he saved my life way back then," I say, as we carefully clamber over a bunch of fallen logs. "All the more reason to not die."

"The most foolproof plan to win the Hunger Games. Not dying," Wood agrees. "You know, this feels like far enough I think we can stop here."

And so we do. We set down our supplies and just... relax for a moment.

"So, what's the plan tomorrow?" I ask him. "Just keep moving to the mountain?"

"Yeah, exactly that," he says. "Perhaps we'll get lucky and somebody will get themselves killed before we get back on the move, or maybe we'll find somebody before they wake up. I call the next kill, by the way. I need to rack up a higher 'score' to keep sponsor's coming."

"Be my guest," I say, shrugging. Wait... did that tree behind him just move?

"Gladly. Though, chances are we'd just find two tributes at once," he continues. Ok, that tree is moving, I swear. "The Careers are together, so are the kids... Rammy's the only one all alone. Actually, killing him would work pretty well."

Nuts!

"WATCH OUT!" I scream, lunching forwards and tackling Wood to the ground.

He begins to shout, but his shouts die out when a thick tree branch swings where he had been standing. We both look up, pale faced.

Yeah... the tree was moving from more than the wind of nature. Staring down at us is what I can only describe as a Tree Mutt. Dark, almost charcoal black bark... thick branches lacking leaves... demonic eyes that appear as light green glows. It's enough to scare even the most formidable of fighters, of which I am not hence why I am screaming.

The bark splits, revealing its mouth full of sharp, wooden teeth. It roars as it uproots itself, six thick roots functioning as its legs. Staring right at us, it seems to leer for a moment.

Nuts...

"Well then..." Wood says, dusting himself off. "We might be a bit fucked."

"More than just a bit," I choke out, shivering.

"All the more reason to fight," he says, gripping his hatchet. "Let's kill it!"

"What?!" I squeal, trembling from my head to my toes. "But it's a huge tree! It's s-s-s-so big!"

"It's a tree, we have axes, we can do this," Wood says, shrugging. "Not like we can run. We'd just be driven back if we tried."

As we dodged another swing of the tree mutt's branches I know that Wood is right. The Gamemakers expect us to put on one massive show, and it's a show we must give them. Tributes can flee sometimes, but there are times where doing so is just asking for more trouble.

The tree mutt roars again and Wood seizes his chance, leaping forth and swinging he axe right at the bark. The Mutt certainly feels it judging by the screech, but I'd not call it a major wound by any means.

I'd call this a major wound!

I strike my axe right upon the root leg of the mutt, digging it right into the beast. It shrieks again, horribly loud. I barely yank the axe back out before it swings the branch again. I duck down, the swing going right over me. I suppose I'm such a small target that it's having issues being able to hit me.

"The bark is too strong!" Wood says, dodging another swing before being struck over by a follow up smash. "ACK!"

"Wood!" I scream, running to his aid.

"I'm fine," he says, jumping up. "We need to break through the bark, quick!"

I think hard for any sort of method to do this. What is the weakness of wood? Well obviously it would be axes, but in this case axes are not working properly. So, what else? Hmmm...

...Fire.

Of course!

"Wood, do you still have that jar of napalm?" I ask, praying so hard that he does.

"I do. Why... oh, I see," he says, starting to cackle. "Oh, this'll be good!"

Wood quickly grabs out the jar of napalm and takes aim. He tosses it hard, the jar smashing against the tree mutt and coating it in the extremely flammable mixture. Wood then grabs out a handheld blowtorch, turning it on.

"Stand back," he tells me, his grin widening.

I don't need to be told twice, getting myself a safe distance back. Of course, I still grip my axe and remain ready to battle at a moment's notice. Wood meanwhile takes aim again.

"Hey, eat this!" he yells. "Uwee ha har!"

The torch is thrown right at the mutt and for a moment it's as if all is happening in slow-motion.

The flame makes contact with the napalm.

I yell in alarm, covering up as the tree mutt is engulfed by an explosion of flames. It shrieks and screams in such a grotesque fashion, flailing around blindly. Uncovering my eyes I can see that the thick bark is burning away swiftly, some of it falling off the mutt entirely. The softer, weaker tree trunk beneath has been revealed and is already catching fire as well. We may not even have to use the axes if it'll just burn to death.

"Awesome plan!" Wood says, gripping his hatchet. "Shall we finish this bastard off?"

"We could just let it burn," I say as we move backwards, keeping away from it. "I think it'll die anyway soon enough."

"But that's boring!" Wood teases. He sighs dramatically as the tree mutt screeches and raises up a branch. Oh shit! "We could-."

"LOOK OUT!"

I run to wood and lunge, desperate to get him out of the way. That, or I hope my warning will make him duck and cover before it's too late.

It's too late.

My tackle ends up with me touching air and hitting the ground. Wood screams horrifically, the most awful sound I've heard in my life. I look up, pale as snow, as I see what has happened to him. NO! NO! If I'd just been a second faster...

The burning tree mutt has impaled him with a branch and swings him around, blood being sent flying around. With a roar, the mutt throws him away like a ragdoll. He hits a tree and crumbles to the ground. With another roar, the tree mutt begins to loom near him.

No, I don't think so. I won't allow such a thing to happen.

I. Have. Had. ENOUGH!

"Get the fuck away from my citizen!" I scream, charging forwards with my axe held tightly.

I'm not quite sure what has come over me. Perhaps the build up of all the pain and stress, maybe a gigantic surge of adrenaline from seeing a citizen from home hurt so badly... possibly the sight of a dying friend.

Whatever it is, it's got me right in the state of mind for a fight. I swing the axe down as hard as my sore body can allow, severing one of the root legs entirely. The tree mutt wobbles and roars in pain, but I'm hardly through with this uncouth piece of shit! Nothing matters right now besides punishing the monster that dared to mess with District Seven.

The thing I have noticed is that the mutt is slow to turn around, even when it had all of its legs. It's only common sense for me, then, to get behind it and start striking away as best as I can. I feel aflame, much like the monster, but at the same time... I feel alive.

"You shouldn't have done that! You dare to mess with my citizen, you vile fiend?!" I screech out, smashing the axe into it's back over and over. "For that, your execution is nigh!"

It's a miracle that Wood grabbed the napalm jar from the cornucopia, or there is no way this mutt could have been beaten. Least of all by me alone. Even when burning and missing a leg it puts up a vicious fight. The branches swing wildly, leaving me with bruises and tears in my eyes. Only the fact I am behind it and hard for it to aim for keeps me from getting a worse strike.

"It's time for you to face up for your crime! Take this!" I shout, striking the mutt again.

It must be on the ropes now. The fire cannot be good for a mutt made out of wood, and it has taken so much damage. It staggers and moans, no doubt from its life force draining away. I bounce on my heels as I brace myself for whatever it may do next. It's a known fact a dying mutt is a vicious mutt that will go all out to survive. In some ways, the same as a dying tribute.

Calm Nettle, calm. You can do this. Just don't get hit... think of it like ballet; move swift, don't get hit, stay balanced.

A branch comes down and, keeping the images of dancing in mind, I elegantly dart to the side. Yes, it is like dancing. A dance battle, of sorts So long as it cannot hit me, the flames should be able to finish the monster off.

A swing from the right, I dart to the left.

A slash from the left, I twirl to the right.

A low sweep, I leap in the air.

An overhead smash, I do the splits... and scream from the strain.

The mutt looks like it's just about had it by now. It roars, rearing back for what must be it's final attack. No, I shan't give it the chance to even do that. Never!

"Timber!" I yell, imitating the call of the lumberjacks back home as I throw the axe.

I stagger a bit, panting in pure exhaustion as the axe flies through the air. My chest burns, my leg hurts, everything is blurry and I'm ever so past my limit.

That's nothing to the mutt, its screams ceasing as the axe digs deeply into it's face. Silent as the non-monstrous trees back home it falls to the ground with a crash. The ground rumbles from the force, almost making me fall over.

I stagger to the beast, grabbing the axe before the flames can cover it and make it inaccessible for me. Swaying on the spot, I nonetheless find it in me to spit at the felled beast.

"I like you better as firewood," I hiss. "...Wood... Wood!"

I stumble my way over to my fallen ally. Even before I kneel beside him, holding back the tears, I know that he's done for. I feel certain Wood knows it too. After all, he's bleeding badly and... he just got impaled! I can see his innards, the sight almost making me vomit out my own guts. I hold it all down, somehow, and take hold of his hand.

"I should've been faster to warn you," I sob, shaking in grief. "I did this. I..."

"Not you..." he chokes out. "Them..."

The Capitol. The worst, most revolting leaders in the history of humanity. At least, the history I myself am aware of. Ghastly fiends, to do this to children. It's what we are really, deep down, just kids in no way deserving this hell.

"I'll make them pay," I say, the words flowing without me having to think about it. "Don't... don't leave me. Not when we just started to really... get along..."

He barely manages to look at me, he's so far gone.

"You were epic," he says, slurring as his face pales from the lost blood. "Take my stuff... live... survive..."

"Die knowing that I will be the Victor," I vow to him. "It's a promise. I don't break a promise lightly."

"Good..." he says, weakly chuckling. "If you see... my brother... tell him it was my choice, he... he shouldn't fee bad. He'll know... what that means..."

He lays back, his eyes unfocused.

"Hey... Capitol..." he says to the sky. "...Fuck all of you cowardly shits..."

Wood weakly puts up the middle finger, trying to raise it. My heart tightens, but I gently reach over and help him raise arm to flip them off. With a last, near silent chuckle... he goes still. I tremble as I let his arm flop down.

The instant the cannon booms I start to break down. I can't stop myself wailing and crying over my dead ally... dead friend... dead citizen. It's far too much death to deal with. But I can't expect to end up any better if I stay here and cry. I just can't.

I grab up Wood's supplies just as he told me too... not as much as I thought would be in there based off of the weight, but it's better than what I already had. I can't move on yet though, not without the most important thing. Wood's token.

I quickly locate it in his front pocket.

A wooden doll. A small thing, but one certainly made with some talent. I feel the tears forming as I look it over. I soon spot a little inscription on the underside.

-The Ivydale family. Always together, in person or spirit.-

I'm already exhausted, miserable and traumatised, but seeing this and how yet another family has been broken apart from these vile Games makes something within me snap. I'm shouting and screaming before I even realise what I am doing, punching a tree as I throw a tantrum.

"You bastards! You sick, sadistic, cowardly, rotten, elitist, witless, loveless, greedy bastards!" I scream, my throat burning. "He was just seventeen! He'd hardly started to live, and now he's dead! You did this to him! You destroyed a family of real people with real feelings for pointless entertainment! Evil, uncouth bastards! You... you..."

I shake and seethe, but as I take many deep breathes I suddenly start to calm down just a tiny amount. Not much, granted, but enough for a thought to occur to me.

I am insulting the Capitol right to their faces. I just called them out and put them in their place.

They won't ignore this.

I gently cross Wood's arms and give him a final salute.

"Rest easy," I say, fear quickly rising in me. A mutt could come from anywhere any second. The trees could come to life and tear me apart.

I pocket Wood's token and run. I run for my life, far away from here. I've really gone and done it this time. I told the Capitol just what I thought of them... now, I can only pray for luck, or that I can find some terrain to give me the upper hand.

The sound of the hovercraft a distance behind me descending to collect Wood's corpse has me sprinting onwards even faster. My whole body burns, but I can't stop. Not yet. Not when I'm out in the open for any tribute or mutt to kill in any number of terrible ways.

I got myself into this mess. It's entirely my own fault. So... I suppose it's only fitting that I get myself out of it. I just wish I knew how to do that.

When a tree starts to fall, smashing the ground only a bit behind me I can only shiver in dread. I need to think of a plan, now.

---

(Later...)

---

As I sit in a cave, the Anthem begins to blare loudly for all to hear. All those still alive, that is. I can hardly bring myself to watch it after the sort of day that I've been having and exactly who it is going to be up there... but, to hide my face and look away would be the actions of a coward. I'm many things, not all of them good, but a coward is not among them.

I peer out of the cave to look at the sky. Storm clouds are still up there, of course, but at least the rain has stopped again. Right now I'm at a sort of clifftop area upon a steep, grassy slope. The water isn't up to this point yet, though perhaps it'll be just a matter of time. The entrance is fairly hard to see with how it's small and the moss conceals a lot of it. The branches and vines I gathered only add to this concealment.

I sit quietly, staring up at the sky. I feel so lost, honestly. Then again, that's nothing to the lost souls of Cinder and Wood, or how their families must be feeling right now. My gut tightens as Cinder's face is shown in the sky, no hunt of her brains, her tenderness nor the flirty side she once alluded to present in her gaze. She's just a fallen tribute to the powers that be.

Wood's face in the sky makes my heart start to ache. If I'd just been one second faster... just one. I could've saved his life. A mayor's duty is to their people, and I just let one of my people die through a failure to act in time. Perhaps I didn't hesitate this time, true, but I just needed to be faster.

The Anthem ends and everything is silent. Everything except my mind. It all comes back to the same thing in the end; I insulted the Capitol and they'll make me pay for it sooner than later.

I've wondered why they haven't done anything yet, but perhaps part of it is the torment of keeping in a horrible state of anxiety and fear, worrying over when they will act. I'm sure they're getting some satisfaction from seeing me this way. They may act in a minute, an hour, a day... whenever it happens, it won't be pretty. It'll be horrific.

At the very least, Wood had some decent medical supplies. My leg and arm are feeling much better. Not a full recovery by any means, but maybe enough that I will be able to better function tomorrow.

Just five to go...

My rather sombre, perhaps melodramatic, monologue is broken when I hear the sonar of a sponsor. I poke my head out of the cave again, trying to spot where it is.

...

What the hell?!

I can only sit slack-jawed at the sight I am seeing. A sponsor is coming down towards me, this much I already knew, but unlike the norm it's clearly more than a note of more than likely foul words.

It's a crate.

Supported by some sort of a balloon system, the crate gently descends towards me. I can only stare at it with wide, bewildered eyes. I rub my eyes, making sure it's not just another hallucination, but no... it's real.

With a gentle thud, the crate comes to a stop beside me and the balloon silently deflates itself. I just stare at it for a few moments.

I break out of my trance, dragging it inside the cave as best as I can. It's not easy, but over the course of fifteen minutes I get the job done and so, sitting back in my 'safe haven' I look over the crate I've been sent. It's a somewhat dark shade of sky blue and seems pretty well put together. I ponder for a moment how I'm even going to get this thing opened up.

Oh, wait. I have an axe. Dumb question...

I notice an envelope taped to the top of the crate. Perhaps this might explain why I have a friggin' supply drop of gear. I open it, bracing for whatever it might say.

-Nettle

Shortly after you slayed the tree mutt and insulted the Capitol - I don't blame you, but others certainly do, so be alert - your sponsor funding suddenly jumped up by a massive amount. I have no idea where this money came from as the source was listed as anonymous and it was a lot. Bit weird if you ask me, but whoever the person was they gave a very specific list of things they wanted to send you. Nobody stopped me, hence the crate you've got with you now. I guess if the Capitol are angry at you, only fair you get to properly prepare yourself, yeah? Johanna is still pissed off, but give her time. You get used to it.

Your new (and improved, let us be real here) Mentor

Blight

P.S The following is from your anonymous sponsor.

You are doing fine, dear. Keep fighting and doing your home proud. I can't wait to see you home safely, and hold you in my arms. You have this under control, and I am so proud.

I blink, ever so confused by this. I have an admirer? A filthy rich one? How strange... I won't complain, I'm not stupid, but this is certainly very weird. Though, I suppose weirder things have happened in the Hunger Games before now.

I screw up the note and stuff it in my pocket. I can use that in a fire later. For now, let's see what I have. Two strikes of the axe are all it takes to take the top off of the crate and get a look inside. I can't help but sniffle in purest joy when I see what I have all to myself.

"Whoever my sponsor is, thank you!" I choke out, smiling.

Look at all of this! Food - real food - like meats, fresh vegetables, fish, bread and the whole works. Several bottles of water. Medical stuff. A blanket! It's hard not to start crying from the hope that wells up inside of me.

Although, there is one issue that ruins the moment a bit. Perhaps more than merely a bit.

The Capitol are still angry at me. Blight confirmed it! Even if I have some great supplies - and let's be honest, they may not last long in the end - it won't stop them from unleashing their worst upon me. If I'm better able to fight, perhaps they'd just send something stronger and much more horrific after me. Only time can tell, and I fear what it may tell me.

It's a comfort, though, that somebody cared about me enough to send me all of this stuff. But, who could it have been? Who wants to hold me in their arms? I'd logically assume it was Ranger, but just as logically... where would he get the money for this? That's way out of his budget. I am sure he's donated some money to help me, but nothing close to this level. He may be six foot eight inches of handsomeness, but he's not made of of Caps.

I guess I'll have to just put it out of my mind for now. I have bigger things to try and figure out right now. Like... what do I do now?

And, what will the Capitol do?

---

END OF DAY 7...

---

REMAINING TRIBUTES

Marvel (District 1 Male)

Cato (District 2 Male)

Gadget (District 3 Female)

Urchin (District 4 Male)

Nettle (District 7 Female)

Rammy (District 10 Male)

---

THE FALLEN

7th- Wood (District 7 Male) - Impaled by a Tree Mutt.

8th- Cinder (District 5 Female) - Struck with an axe, by Nettle.

9th- Glimmer (District 1 Female) - Blown up by landmines, by Gadget.

10th- Katniss (District 12 Female) - Skewered with a spear through the back, by Marvel.

11th- Lacey (District 8 Female) - Shot repeatedly with arrows, by Glimmer.

12th- Peeta (District 12 Male) - Beaten relentlessly, by Cato.

13th- Rue (District 11 Female) – Spear thrown into chest, by Wood.

14th- Clove (District 2 Female) - Drowned, by Nettle.

15th- Weldar (District 3 Female) - Asphyxiated with a rope, by Rammy.

16th- Jason (District 6 Male) – Slashed several times in the stomach with a scythe, by Cato.

17th- Sparky (District 5 Male) – Speared in the gut with a spear and then stabbed in the chest with a knife, by Wood.

18th- Sickle (District 9 Female) – Stabbed in the chest with a knife, by Glimmer.

19th- Thresh (District 11 Male) – Disembowelled with a machete, by Cato.

20th- Marina (District 4 Female) - Struck in the neck with an axe by Weldar.

21st- Miller (District 9 Female) – Knife thrown into back, by Clove.

22nd- Tamora (District 6 Female) – Stabbed repeatedly in the gut, by Glimmer.

23rd- Sable (District 10 Female) – Stuck in the skull with an axe, by Cato.

24th- Callico (District 8 Male) – Stabbed with a kukri, by Marvel.

---

TRIBUTE NOTES

Cinder: Per the norm I had a lot of fun writing for her. Smart, very civil and with the underlying 'foxy' attitude, part of me wanted to have her last longer in this incarnation of the 74th Hunger Games. However, increasing her placement in the death order would not have really made as much sense for what I was going for in this story. While Urchin saw Cinder's peaceful side, Gadget saw traces of her flirty side and Sickle hardly saw her, Nettle is the lead who has most notably seen Cinder's smarter and rational side. Helping Nettle through the crocodile infested swamp, thinking fast to get Rammy off of her back and her careful, objective talk in the boat. I feel like things added up to make her a fairly strong support character. Originally she was going to die in the same rank, but it would've been due to a different person and method - more on that after the story is complete. However, as time went by I started to feel in two minds about going the route I was thinking. Changing a few things up in response to some issues that were noted led to the initial idea no longer being feasible anyway, so things naturally progressed to what I believe counts as an accidental murder. Nettle was startled when she was already in a panic and reacted right in the moment. The worst of luck, because as she said, if she'd known it was Cinder she wouldn't have done it. Alas, Cinder has died once again and Nettle certainly feels haunted by her impulsive reaction. Better luck next timeline, fox girl...

Wood: Our first ever time seeing this guy! Hopefully Wood was worth the wait it took for us to finally get introduced to him. Sly, charismatic, manipulative, unfiltered and having no particular reservations about killing in the Arena, I'd say he is certainly among the more stand-out people in the 74th Hunger Games. For some background, like most of the nameless tributes there's little information on him except that his odds are notably good, he favours a spear and that it can be noted he tries to come to Nettle's defence in the canon bloodbath. From all this, it formed the bare bones of a powerful tribute with a fair bit of District loyalty. As for his more wolfish and slightly crazy personality, I just knew I wanted a more deadly tribute who was kind of a loon and let the writing take me where ever it may. I feel very satisfied with the result of his character; comedic, a fighter, a boy of several moods and being perceived as good, bad and both. Alas, that tree mutt wasn't having any of it, clearly. Had Nettle thrown the napalm instead, the same could've happened to her. There's still a lot we do not know about Wood, I can tease that much for whenever he may pop up again in the future. But, one little thing I think I can say... did you know he was somewhat inspired by Agent 9 from Spyro 3? :D

So, who might the mysterious sponsor be? Indeed, what will happen now? Stay tuned!

Oh, and those old mines under the Arena? They will remain there for every single timeline, a constant secret of the Arena that no point of divergence can alter the existence of. Perhaps we'll see them reappear another time...?