The Hunger Games (Peeta's Point of View)

Chapter Twelve

"Ready to move on?" I ask, ashamed at the merciless act I have to put on to convince the Careers.

      We all collect our supplies and start off in the direction we were heading, following the sunrise in the east. We haven't slept for long, something that will certainly hinder us in our quest for tributes. As the sun breaks from the horizon the birds begin to sing, a beautiful sound I have not heard in ages. Even the Careers seem to take pleasure in the music.

      A few hours pass without anything spectacular happening, so we set down our packs and nibble on some more of our food. Smoked meat. Crackers. Dried fruit. Not exactly food of any substance but once we find shelter for the night we'll probably try and catch some prey. Besides, the little we decided to bring from the Cornucopia is running out. We could go back and get some but the Careers usually hunt for tributes for the first few days, then return to the Cornucopia. It's not as if our supplies are in any danger; no one would dare go to the Cornucopia during the first couple of days. They spend their time fleeing from us, praying they find a water source and not another tribute.

      By sun-high our water supplies are dwindling. We've kept track of the river- it's a few miles, give of take, to the right of us- so we head in that direction. The water is slow-flowing and slightly murky, but it gives us life in the arena. We fill our flasks to the brim, dropping in several drops of a pinkish solution which instantly purifies the water. The water soothes my throat and tastes good. Nothing like the quality we've got used to in the Capitol, but it's water nonetheless.

      The line of trees thin as we progress furthur up the lake. We follow it upstream until evening until fatigue begins to set in.

      "We should find shelter," says Marvel. Hardly any words have been spoken we were so dedicated to finding tributes, and his voice seems too loud.

      Cato nods in agreement. "Let's go further in the forest," he says, more of an order than a suggestion. "There'll be more prey there and more thickets for shelter."

      The line of trees in front of us appear to be silhouettes in the sunlight; a mixture of willows, pines and oaks- a mix only found in the arena. We don't have to search for long.

      "There's a cave here!" shouts Glimmer, much too loud for the arena, but no one complains. We just want to eat and sleep after a disappointing day of no deiaths. You can almost taste the anticlimax.

     Everyone shuffles in the cave, wooping when we discover it's large enough to hold us all.

   "We'll have to be cautious," warns Clove. "A cave of this size could be home to a bear or something."

      "And I wouldn't put it past the Gamemakers to conjour one out of thin air," Tara remarks bitterly, but she throws down her bag.

      I doubt the Gamemakers would place something in the arena to hurt us. The Careers always put on a good show for them at first, most of the reason the Gamemakers favour them. The other part that they thin out the tributes and kill all the underdogs. That's Katniss and I. I hope she's alive.

      "So, who's gonna hunt?" asks Marvel, lazily running his hand through his hair. He obviously has no intention of going.

      "I will. And Clove, and Peeta." Cato says, who's already laid out his sleeping bag and is holding his spear. "You guys lay out our stuff, and we'll be back soon with some food!"

      Cato has his spear, and a sword in his belt, and Clove has her belt of throwing knives. And what do I have? No hunting or trapping skills I can reveal to the Careers, that's for sure. One knife. And a roaring hunger in my belly. The diet we were fed before the Games helped us stave off hunger on the first day, but now our meagre diet is taking its toll. Sure enough, my belly rumbles just as we exit the cave.