The 150th Annual Hunger Games

Day Eleven (Morning)

Ace Dawford's P.O.V. (D2)

I lean against the rough wall of an alleyway, reaching for the canteen in my pack. I slide down the wall until I sit on the ground, sipping at the water. I feel drained of all my energy after a long night spent searching for Kara. How could it be so hard to find somebody in just one town? I wish the arena would change to a flat-land or something that would be more convenient for tracking down tributes. If the Gamemakers were actually smart, they would probably do just that, but no, they need to make it that the tributes are like needles and the arena is a gigantic haystack.

I sigh and rest my head back against the wall as I screw the lid back on the canteen. A growl from my stomach compels me to consult my bag for breakfast. I find some crackers and an apple. The apple is a little bruised up from bouncing about in my bag with the rest of my junk, but it's still good.

I think that after so many days of fighting and hunting down tributes, I deserve a rest-day. Like a day off, as if that's even a term in the arena's vocabulary. It's not like I've had any luck running into anybody since yesterday morning, but that was just because Kara knew exactly where we were. Not now, I'm just as hidden as very one else.

Watch someone show up while I'm trying to stay away from them, I think to myself. It's funny how that works, whenever you're trying to find somebody, it's practically impossible, and then when you're trying to hide from them, they come right to you. I just can't win when it comes to that.

As I eat and think, I can feel myself relaxing and I don't even finish eating my apple before I drift off into sleep, driven from exhaustion.

Janice Senn's P.O.V. (D3)

I wake up, finding a breakfast already prepared for me over where we left the supplies. Harper is sitting in a corner, peeling the bark off a twig while staring out the window.

"Sleeping beauty awakes!" he comments, beaming a smile at me.

I grin a little, "Someone's in a better mood today."

"Yeah, well, I feel good today," he replies with a shrug.

"How's the shoulder?"

"Hardly can even notice anything happened to it."

"That's good..." I say, taking a bite of a beef-strip, "Did you see anybody during your watch last night?"

"Yeah, I did see somebody...I'm pretty sure it was Kara, and I heard some shouting coming from the direction she went after the Death Toll, no canon though. You were asleep by then, I think."

I swallow, "How close did it sound?"

"Pretty close actually, probably on this street..." Harper answers, glancing out the window again, "But I've been keeping a watchful eye on the street this whole time, and there's been no signs of anyone so far."

Lowering my voice, now informed of the fact that a maniac is possibly nearby, I ask, "Should we move somewhere else?"

Harper shakes his head, "We should wait until we see her leave. She doesn't know we're here yet. She probably wouldn't expect us to be so close to her anyways."

"I guess..."

Just then, the sound of a door or window-shutter being slammed shut echoes through the quiet, morning air. Harper is checking the window the second the sound was created. I watch him squint and edge closer to the window. Then he suddenly ducks down with a curse, crushing the twig in his hand.

My eyes widen, "What?"

"It's Kara...she saw me..."

"What?!" I shout in a whisper, panicking as I stand up, frantically throwing my pack around my back and unsheathing my sword.