The next morning, it’s bitter cold. I haven’t felt this cold in years. It’s got to be no more than fifteen degrees Fahrenheit, and my breathe is noticeable in the air. As I step, small crinkles come from the dead leaves that are covered in frost and some are in ice. The streams are frozen over, and it's dark. I'm about an hour and a half before sunrise. Already, I can't feel my toes, or fingers, so it's getting harder to move silently. If I didn't have my hoodie, I would definitely die from the cold. The heat reflectors are helping me stay warm. I haven’t eaten since yesterday, and am starting to feel it. I’m at the Cornucopia before anyone else, and sit down, covering myself with frozen leaves. I look over at the woods, and see no one. But that doesn't mean no one is there. I take off my backpack, and hide it in a bush. I can’t have anything slowing me down. Instead of hiding in the woods where others could find me, I decide to take a risk and go to the Cornucopia. Surely no one else is there. If so, I’ll just run.
No one else is there, so I look through what is left. A few crates, blades, nothing too helpful. But something in the back catches my eye. As I get closer, I see dried blood from the Bloodbath. Next to it, is someone’s token. A small die that has a crystal in it. I pick it up and pocket it. I look out towards the door and say out loud, “If I die, please return this to the fallen tribute’s family. If he or she does not have a family, please find their closest friend and give it to them. Thank you.” Hopefully it will get back to where it’s from.
At dawn, the sun has risen and the temperature has too - slightly; the ground in front on the Cornucopia spits apart, and a table rises up from under the ground, like a demon from Hell. As it rises, I rise with it. I can see that the table has four bags, varying in size. Two of the biggest bags have 2 and 11 marked on them, and are pitch black; my number 5 bag is green and a medium size; Katniss and Peeta’s bag is an extremely orange and extremely small bag with a 12.
Once the table locks into place, I go. I don’t want to confront anyone else, and the quicker I grab it, the quicker I can get out. With in seconds, I have grabbed the bag and escaped into the woods to my right, leaving the other bags where they sit. I don’t want anyone chasing after me, plus I doubt anything in the other packs would help me. I keep running until I’m far away from the horn. I suddenly stop - my pack. Now I have to round back and grab it. I’m such an idiot! I should have kept it on so I could just keep going. This time, holding onto my green bag, I sprint back around to my side. When I’m almost to my hidden pack, a cannon goes off. After eighteen other cannons, I’m confident that it isn’t Katniss who died. By the time I collect my bag, the hovercraft’s claw is coming down towards the ground, and opening up to carrying the girl from 2’s body away. I assume Cato is chasing after Thresh, because I could not see an arrow that would proclaim that Katniss killed her. I leave once the coast is clear, and start heading back to a creek that I saw earlier.
The Gamemakers are messing with the weather, and soon enough, it’s a downpour. From where I am, I can see my dry den that I spent sometime in, and no one else has touched the bushes hiding both entrances. I quickly survey the area, trying to hear if anyone else is in the area, but the thunder and lightning is making it harder than usual. With reluctance, but relief, I enter my den, and pull off my wet hoodie and jacket. I pull out my blanket, and snuggle down into it. Thankfully, both bags are waterproof, so nothing is wet.
Once I get as comfortable as I’m going to, I open the other bag. In it, is hot soup full of chicken, lamb, and vegetables. There are two apples, with a note saying, “Here are your bloody apples!” signed Celeste Lani. I start to laugh, grab one, and lift it towards the entrance to my den, as a toast to Celeste Lani. I immediately bite into the sweetness. Next in my bag is extra socks and some gloves. I put on the socks while my other dry, and I am engulfed in happiness. Having this den and the food is really making me rejuvenated. Also the weather means no one will come and gets me. Most likely. Even though rain is starting to make a tiny puddle in front of both entrances, I’m sitting on a raised section in the middle - safe from any water. Wouldn’t it be great if I were to wake up, and the water is up to my chin? I doubt Seneca Crane would allow that to happen. The next thing is a note:
Soon the birds shall cry
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The Hunger Games: Foxface
FanfictionEver wanted to know what Foxface's thoughts were while she experienced the Hunger Games? Who did she team up with? Why did she eat the berries? Ladies and gentlemen, let the Seventy-Fourth Hunger Games BEGIN!!!
