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★★★
I WISH I COULD SAY I was up running like a shot, bravely escaping from the bloodthirsty Career pack, but no. My joints feel completely frozen, and I literally can't move. My eyes have widened to what are probably comical proportions, and I feel the rush of fear running through my veins. Do something, don't just—
"Get her!" Cato's voice. I hear the rest of them laughing, and almost feel them crashing through the trees. Who are they chasing?
I try to stay as still as possible, knowing my best bet is to hide and hope they don't notice me. There's a rustle in the tree... Oh god, it's the tree right above me. Please don't step on me. I would be caught for sure, not to mention Cato's feet are huge.
"Come on down!" yells Cato, coming to a stop right in front of me. I almost stop breathing entirely. He stomps his foot, and I let out a tiny eep. Shifting a leaf half a degree to the right, I see his boot just three inches away from my face. "There's no use hiding up there!"
The mystery tribute up in the tree makes no comment. There's a scoff from one of the girls. Clove? No, Glimmer. "She can't stay up there forever, Cato. Come on."
I slowly feel my limbs defrosting. I doubt I could run, though, in this position with the Careers in front of me. My heart pounds wildly, and I shut my eyes hard. Focus.
I can't see Cato's face from here, but I'm assuming he's scowling. The charming boy from the interviews is gone, replaced by... whatever this angry, ruthless killing machine is. I shiver again, imperceptibly. Just leave already!
"We can set up camp right here," says Glimmer in a coaxing voice, tugging at his sleeve. I groan mentally. I doubt I'll be able to walk after this.
Cato grumbles, and I peek through the leaves to see him swinging his foot back. Nonono, is he really going to—
Luckily, another pair of boots crosses in front of him and shoves him back. "We can deal with your anger issues later, Cato. Come on, I'm hungry."
Clove. I breathe a tiny sigh of relief. I've seen Cato get angry before, just once in the Training Center when he attacked a boy from Six for taking his knife. If he kicked my little pile of leaves in a fit of rage—I shudder. Don't even think about that.
"I don't see the point." The girl from Four, Dana. "She's obviously not a threat."
"A kill's a kill, Four." Marvel, his voice muffled. I think he's chewing on something. I desperately try to keep my stomach from growling. "Hey, Lover Boy. Get me some of that bread, would you?"
Lover Boy? Peeta. It must be Peeta. Lover Boy is silent, but I hear some shuffling, and Marvel's chewing noises get louder. I grimace, hunger practically eating open my stomach. Not a pretty sight.
