A loud howl pierced the night. I jumped up from my slumber, startled. "What was that?" Greg hissed alarmingly. Pete was now up next to me. I unsheathed my sword and looked around. "Over there!" Pete yelled. He held a mace. The one I had given to him at the beginning of the Games. There was a group of small shadows approaching. "Are those...coyotes?" Greg wondered holding a bow.

I smiled. "I don't know but if they attack us, I'm gonna chop them to bits." Pete laughed but Greg just looked uneasy. We stood in silence waiting for the shadows to reach us. As they neared, it became evident that they were indeed coyotes. There were six of them. And three of us. We could take them right? "Skye, you get the two on the far left. I'll get the two in the middle, and Greg you take the two on the far right," Pete ordered. I nodded and tightened my grip on the sword. Greg swallowed hard and nodded as well. Then, all at once, the coyotes howled a deadly screech.

I yelled back and ran wildly at the coyotes I was supposed to kill. Pete followed, with Greg taking up the rear. The first coyote jumped at me. I swung upward with my sword. It connected and flung the coyote over my head. I could hear it whimpering as I faced another coyote. It leapt at my feet, attempting to scratch at me. I kicked it away fiercely. It came back and went for my stomach this time. It clawed at me and even tried biting my stomach. I wailed in pain as blood poured from the marks left behind. I shoved the coyote off me, then ran at it. I lunged and stabbed the beast straight through the throat. It fell, dead, to the ground. Then there was impact against my back. The injured coyote had returned. I flailed around until it fell off me. Then I swung around and pointed my weapon at the coyote. It charged me snapping its teeth. I rose my sword and brought it down mightily. The blade pierced the coyote in the abdominal area. It died.

Pete was swinging crazily at his remaining coyote while Greg looked like he was in trouble. Despite the screaming pain of my stomach, I dragged myself over to help Greg. His bow and arrows were scattered across the ground. One coyote lay on its side, two arrows sticking out of it. The other coyote was on top of Greg in a tussle. Greg struggled to get the thing off him. I leapt at the coyote and swung with my sword. It smacked the creature across its head. The coyote fell off of Greg bleeding gallons. It tried desperately to get on its feet, but eventually the strength left it. I helped Greg up. "Dang that thing..." he murmured. Pete was now by my side. He gasped. "That's pretty bad Greg," Pete croaked. "You think?" Greg responded sarcastically. We limped back to our camp just as dawn arrived.

It was officially Day 7. One week. One whole week I had been in this crap hole they call an Arena. We began our journey toward the Cornucopia. We'd helped Greg bandage his wounds but there wasn't much we could do. "I'm sure there will be some good medical supplies in the stash," I huffed as we walked through the desert. Then, Greg fell. He couldn't keep walking. "It hurts too much. Please..." he complained. Pete sat on the rocky ground to assist him. "Skye, go to the stash. Bring back whatever you can or Greg will bleed to death!" Pete boomed frantically. I nodded and pulled out my HoverBoard. I jumped on it and smiled to Greg. "You'll be fine bro. I got you," I told him. Then I sped off on my vehicle.

I skidded to a stop at the abyss that stood between me and the Cornucopia. I quickly stuffed the cube into my pocket and leaped onto the first step. I had to be very agile. It took a lot of focus, but I was soon on the other side. I sprinted to the area where Jewel and Art had camouflaged the entrance to the tunnel. I scrambled around until I found it. I picked up a shriveled bush and looked down into the dark tunnel. Honestly, it frightened me to go down there. But I had to do it for Greg. I shook my head, muttered, "Why am I doing this?" Then I jumped into the tunnel.

It was dark and creepy, but I felt my way forward and up into the Cornucopia. So far so good. The inside was clear so I grabbed two bags and looked for medical supplies. There sat a small box with a red cross on it. Bingo. I picked it up, shoved it into one of the bags, and jumped back into the tunnel. I hurried outside and placed the bush in its original position. Then I ran to the chasm and got across it again. I took out my HoverBoard, jumped on it, and rode as fast as I possibly could toward the two figures in the distance.

I reached them and leapt off my HoverBoard. I tossed the medical kit to Pete and he got to work. Greg wasn't looking good. He was deathly pale, sweating like crazy, and he kept jerking around oddly. Another image of the Hunger Games burned into my mind. Added to my collection. I remembered back to seeing Melissa's face, Belle's, Xavier's, Jewel's, Ray's. I imagined the sleeping body of Fred just before I had killed him. I couldn't take it anymore. This had been a terrible week. I was getting sick of everything! I just wanted to go home. Pete broke my train of thought, "You're in trouble Greg..." I looked at the tribute from District 10. He nodded. "Look guys, I'm just going to slow you down. You two go out to the stash. Get our supplies. Then pick me up on the way back to the cave. I'll still be here," Greg attempted to sway us. I was expressionless. "Pete. What do you think?" I had learned to trust Pete with most of our decisions. He frowned and said, "There's no way we are leaving you behind Greg." I finally stepped in. "No, we have to do it Pete."

"What? No Skye! He will die if we leave him!" Pete returned frustrated. "Do it!" Greg intervened. Then I did something I terribly regret. I shoved Pete and spat, "We are going now! We can come back like Greg said!" Pete looked hurt. Real hurt. "Oh yeah, if you want to abandon Greg, you have to abandon me too Skye," Pete replied coldly. Then he squatted back down to help Greg readjust his bandages. I was speechless once again.

"Pete, sometimes you have to think about what's best for the group. We need those supplies or we will die! We can't just stay here forever until Greg heals, which could take days!" I yelled at my friend. He stood up and shook his head. "No. Skye, shut up," Pete said furiously. I scoffed, "Why don't you make me, homeboy?" He turned to face me slowly. "Trust me, I could if I wanted to," Pete shot back. He looked mad. And, even worse, I was enjoying it. "Ha! Really? Why don't you show me Petey?" I laughed mockingly. "Guys just stop, we don't need to-" Greg started, but I didn't hear the rest, because just then, Pete punched me in the nose.

I wiped the blood from my face. "Hit me again!" I shouted at Pete. "Ahhhhh!" Pete howled. He brought his fist back and knocked me in the face again. As I stumbled back I heard Greg screaming for Pete to stop. It took a while for my vision to come back. But when it did, anger swelled up within me. "Pete! You fool!" I tackled the big kid to the ground. He groaned as we landed hard. I easily shifted on top of him. "Get OFF!" Pete demanded. I smiled down at him and shook my head. "Loser," I muttered. Then I elbowed Pete in the chin. Blood spurted from the bruise. "Stop Skye! Please!" Pete pleaded. I shook my head again. It was happening. I was losing it again. I punched him in the gut. No, I had to get control of myself. Jewel's death came to mind. I couldn't let that kind of insane, murderous rage take over again. No, I had to stop. I lifted myself from Pete and walked away.

I kept walking. I took deep breaths through gritted teeth. I can't do this. I can't go crazy. Pete's my friend! I walked until I got tired, calmed down and returned to camp. Pete started a fire and we slept on opposite sides of the flame. Greg slept next to Pete. Clearly Greg was on Pete's side of the argument. I guess when Greg had suggested leaving him, he hadn't actually expected anyone to agree to it. Heh, figures.

We woke up on Day 8 and checked on Greg. He was looking a little better. I muttered, "Do you guys want me to get another load of supplies from the stash?" Pete shook his head. "We need everyone here just in case. Say Art and Casey show up. I can't take them both. They would kill both of us before you could get back. Plus, we have enough supplies for now," Pete explained. I rolled my eyes and sat down. "Just trying to be helpful..." It was really hot and we were all sweating. "We could be chilling in our cave right now. Without the sun beating on us. That would be amazing," I said wishfully. Pete snorted. Greg shifted and groaned. Pete hurried to help him. I turned around to observe the desert. There was no one, and no animal out there. Just rocks and orange dirt.

"Hey, Pete, I'm sorry about how I acted. I was being a jerk. I don't know...I have been acting odd lately..." I attempted an apology. Pete shrugged. "It's cool kid. I understand. The Games change us all in different ways," he sympathized. I nodded, grinning. "Thanks Pete," then I continued in a hushed voice, "What about Greg? You think he'll...live?" Pete sighed loudly. "I don't know Skye. But it's obvious that unless we get serious medical aid soon, he's toast..." Pete's voice cracked near the end. Was he about to cry? He turned his head away from me and I gave Pete his privacy. The big guy really did have a heart.

That night we went to sleep listening to the anthem. No deaths. Again. Man, we were lasting pretty well. Day 9 was on its way in, and Greg was sadly on his way out. In the morning, we were greeted by a beeping noise. "Parachute!" Pete squealed. I smiled and stood. It glided straight down into my hands. The note inside read, "For Greg. But keep in mind Skye, tomorrow, it happens. I hope you're hungry. -Tammy." Pete swiped the other contents. They were medical supplies. Good ones. Greg was already feeling better. I was still thinking about the note.

We spent the rest of the day deciphering the note from my mentor while Greg healed up. He was doing great. The cuts and blood-spurting wounds were closing up and Greg felt a ton better. "I feel like I could...kill Art Phelps...or attack 50 mutts!" Greg declared proudly.

Eventually, Pete and I came to a conclusion. The whole time we were deciding whether Tammy was telling us about another parachute tomorrow or,

A Feast.