Cato's POV
That was the happiest moment of my life. I want to win this thing as fast as I can, and get home to my father, and live in Victor's Village with Clove next door. Everything can work. I can win for Cassia, and then move on. I can be happy. I can be with Clove. I can get everything I want.
The next day, we're rewarded two parachutes of soup to eat. We laughed and talked and were as carefree as one could be in the arena. We slept almost peacefully that night. The next morning is misty. Just as the sun started to poke out its rays a new message comes.
Claudius Templesmith's voice booms throughout the arena again, "Attention, tributes, attention. Commencing at sunrise there will be a feast tomorrow at the Cornucopia. This will be no ordinary occasion. Each of you needs something desperately. And we plan to be," he stifles a laugh, "generous hosts."
We have to go, even though we don't exactly need anything 'desperately'. They probably just want to speed it up. It's been twelve days, thirteen tomorrow. Everyone knows feasts are just a second bloodbath for when there aren't enough recent deaths to suit the Capitol. They happen probably once every three Hunger Games.
Most of the time, the feasts are just big spreads of food, but occasionally they'll just be a useless loaf of stale bread that tributes will have to compete for. I've never known a Hunger Games where the Gamemakers actually took what the tributes needed into consideration while planning a feast.
Clove turns to me, "I'm going alone."
"What? No. I won't let you."
"I can get people from far away. You have to be close up to use your sword and that's too risky."
"You're not going alone."
She turns her head, aggravated, though she must have been expecting my stubbornness. "Cato," Clove whimpers, "I need us both to get out. We have too. We can't both go in the feast together."
"I need to be there. I know you don't exactly need protecting, but I have to try."
She smiles, looking away at the ground, then looks back at me, ready to compromise, "I get the stuff; you wait in the tree line. If anything happens, you come out. Deal?"
"Deal," I say. "But you have to promise nothing will happen to you."
She grins, "I promise."
We spend the day strategizing: who will be there, what will be their tactics, what they may need, et cetera. That evening, Clove curls up next to me and we plan to sleep until midnight, then leave and get into position, taking all our supplies since we can't afford to lose anything else.
At midnight, we leave our hideout and head through the trees of the forest. We reach the lake and go around, trying to stay unseen. We get to the trees just outside of the field that contain the cornucopia and wait in silence for hours. They seemed to have moved the Cornucopia one hundred and eighty degrees, so that the tail of it is facing southward now. All the rubble and char has been cleaned up, and the holes Chase dug have been perfectly reburied and grassed, so well you wouldn't even notice there was an explosion, or even a plot to reenact the mines. There is also an empty metal table sitting in front of the empty horn, waiting for the feast at dawn.
Clove's POV
About an hour before dawn, I turn to Cato and say, "I'm going over there, to where the tip is pointing. You should move back about ten yards, so they can't see you from over there."
I get up, taking my knives and leaving all the supplies with Cato. He jumps up and grabs my arm, "No, we need to stay together."
"They'll expect that! As soon as I get our things, I'll run this way and we can go back to the cave. Please, Cato."
