#cotcarenaday1

Dusk was breaking, and I could feel my stomach rumbling enough to signal hunger, even though after the day I'd had my appetite was nearly gone. I opened the backpack and sorted it through, and my heart sunk as I pulled out a large bag of baby carrots. I'd be happy eating these tonight as they wouldn't upset my stomach, but if this was all I had to survive off of I'd be weak and protein deficient by tomorrow night. 

For now a handful of baby carrots made due; it felt good to eat something light because I couldn't help but feel sick after the bloodshed of today. I took out one of the juiceboxes and finished it, knowing that if there was one thing I couldn't squelch on it was hydration. I then cut off the top of the juicebox, keeping it in case I came across water at some point. 

The postcard was useless, at least for now. I shoved it back into a pocket in case I could use it for some obscure purpose in the future. Then I pulled out the pillow, which made me feel a little happier with the almost-useless pack I'd gotten. At least I'd be comfortable. And then the bandages. If I ever did win a fight or end up with injuries at least I had ample treatment for the few days I'd be stuck here. 

I packed everything back up and used my free dagger to pull occasional vines down all over the place, making the breakage scattered enough so that it wouldn't be obvious there was a tribute in my area. I weaved the vines into a crude blanket/cover up that would keep me warm over the night, then I took out my pocket generator. I hooked the wire into it and spread it around my sleeping area, weaving it through the vines and tightening it, creating an almost-spiderweb to protect me in my corner. If I got the electricity running high enough it could cause some awful burns to bare skin, or set clothing on fire. 

I spent a good half-hour cranking the pocket generator so that it would create enough energy to last the night, and as I cranked the handle the Capitol's anthem sounded through the arena. The Fallen. 

Several faces I didn't recognize appeared in the night sky, but I took out my notepad and crayon and marked down the dead. I had to pause a second as I wrote Jakub's name down, feeling a pang of sympathy for the poor kid. And then I continued. Rose, the odd girl from District Twelve, had died. I felt bad but also a little relieved. The death of one person I had met was not in my hands, at least. 

The last cannon had to have been the girl from Nine, whos face appeared last. I'd heard about her from Marlee, how cruel and awful she was. But in truth I felt nothing. Not relief that she was gone, not sadness in her death. 

I continued cranking, and after what felt like hours I let the generator do its job, and I settled down for the night. Both from One, both from Two (I felt relieved in that sentiment, at least), one from Four, both from Six, both from Seven, one from Nine, one from Eleven, and me. That made twelve. I buried myself in the makeshift blanket and huddled into the corner with my pillow.

I hadn't gone much further before I ran into another dead end. Feeling as though I couldn't are to go on, which was odd for me to feel (apart from my lungs that is), I slumped against the vegetation and settled into the corner for the night. The sky grew darker and the shadows on the maze walls shifted, turning day into night. I prepared myself to be alone in the eerily silent labyrinth for the rest of the night. There was no doubt in my mind that I would be safe for the night. Tributes would be trying to find safety to prepare for the hunt tomorrow while the Game Makers surely would not send mutts in our direction since we'd dwindled down to half within the first day. 

Tomorrow would be a different story. So as my eyes adjusted to the dark, I decided to let my flashlight rest, to save the batteries. I would not be moving tonight, not when my stomach was rumbling. I snacked on the blue cheese, swallowing hard at the strong taste, but devouring it nonetheless because I was starving. As I wrapped up half of it so that I had something for breakfast, the loudspeakers began to blare the Fallen. 

Adjusting my seating, I watched the night sky to observe all those that had been lost. I cared not for anyone that was left or anyone that had recently departed. Faces were just faces to me, just names, lives that were no longer meant to be lived here, but in the underworld. I imagined that Hades was not happy, nor would the gods who lost both children. And there was Hermes, who still had both. I wondered how Marlee was faring, but I didn't dwell on it. I knew she'd made friends and most would probably pity her. Until the end anyways. 

The song ended and the sky faded to black, leaving only constellations in the sky. I wondered then what Hermes was thinking now. I'd grown a little fond of my mentor-god-father in the short time I knew him and hoped that there might be a way that some of our parents could help us. They were, in fact, gods, after all. But more than likely, I was on my own and what that meant was that I had to find my way through the maze... to find someone else to eliminate, and more food to eat. In the morning, of course.

It was hot, humid, and rather disgusting. By the time I slowed down to take a breather, I was dripping with sweat. Running my fingers through my hair, I felt the dampness spread. My curls were soaked and I felt no relief as I slumped against a dead end wall. My feet kicked out from underneath me and I settled in the dirt, my chest heaving from the run. Damn lungs and their inability to be good at being lungs. 

My weapons were safely tucked into my belt, except for the dagger I kept handy just in case. Letting it go for the first time, the blood of my victims now dried and hard on the blade, I reached for the pack to figure out what I had stolen from the boy. Imagine my confusion when I discovered a slew of blue foods, including cheese, cookies, and some odd gator-drink. As if the uniforms they put us in weren't bad enough, I found an extra-large shirt with the words "Mister D Rocks!" on it. Chuckling, I recalled the one thing I knew about the only daughter of this Mister D. Rowan hated that bastard, so there was very little this shirt could do to convince me that he did, in fact, rock. Still, it was a nice article that I fashioned into a wrap for my head to help keep the sweat out of my eyes and the sun from my face. 

Opening the gator-drink, I slammed half the blue liquid down before taking a break to breathe. My lungs ached but that was about it, not a sore muscle on my body. Another thing I had to thank my mentor-god-father for. I flicked on the flashlight to test it's power and smiled when it worked. Noting the final item, a handful of morphling tablets, I packed away everything except for the gator-drink I opened. From where I sat, I couldn't hear or see much. If someone ran into me, we would battle, there was no alternative. And I would be prepared for that. 

After finishing the gator-drink and fixing my new head-wrap, I slowly returned to my feet as the cannon's rang out through the arena. Although I wasn't too familiar with all things Hunger Games, I knew that it meant the bloodbath was over. 11 cannons for 11 dead. This was one of the biggest bloodbath's in the recent years of the Games, I knew that, too. We were already down to 13 within the first minutes of the Games. This would be over in no time, I had a feeling. 

I walked this time, not wanting to over-exert myself in case I ran into someone... or something. My mind went back to some of the myths I'd read about as I walked. This place was, without a doubt, the labyrinth. I thought of the master tinker Daedalus, of the minotaur that this place was said to hold, of Theseus, and also of Ariadne. I wondered if we were find aid in order to find our way out. Thousands of things crossed my mind. Would I run across another ghost? Would I run into something more deadly? Would I be killing again by the end of the day? Everything was a possibility at this point. The sound of a cannon shattered the heavy silence, causing me to pause, if only for a moment. 

Finally I slowed, hunched over in the vine covered walls as I fought for breath. My heart hammered wildly in my chest, panic and adrenaline coursed through my veins and I could tell that it was only a matter of time before someone caught up with me. It was then that I heard the clanking of metal, turning I saw the silhouette of a soldier. The plumage on his hate denoted him as a Roman and from the dead look in his eyes I knew he was a ploy from the Gamemakers.

“Yield demi-god, or fight.” He squares his shoulders and I’m left with very few options. I glance around, looking for any other way of escape but the only way out is the way I came and running into the clutches of another tribute. Shoving my pack more firmly onto my shoulder I clutch the axe in my hand, sweeping out at the Roman as he stands still. He was unafraid of me. Why should he be? I was a waif thin girl and he was some Capitol invention that feared no one and nothing.

I moved into striking distance, the axe striking and glancing off the roman even as he drew his gladius. He struck with deadly accuracy, leaving me scrawling backwards in an attempt to avoid the strong arm of the blade wielder. Yet as I back up, the blade caught my arm. Blood dripped down, loosening my grip on the axe as my back hit the vines. I had nowhere to go and as the Roman bore down on me I had only one more weapon up my sleeve. He lifted the sword, ready to snuff out my life as my hand went up to protect me. I heard the groan of metal, the sound of a gasp as I peaked up to see the Roman now tightly held by the vines that covered the maze. He had no place to run and as the vines squeezed the life out of him, I knew I was safe.

Taking a deep breath, I felt myself grow smaller and smaller until I was back to my second most familiar form, the black feathers on my neck ruffling as I clutched the paper and crayon in my talons. Flying up to the very top of the maze, I was first stunned into shock of how big it was, and though I couldn't see down into what the maze held, it was now easy to see the various paths and dead ends. I took another deep breath, and sat on top of the wall for a while, drawing out the paths of the maze around me as accurately as I could. I couldn't see past perhaps 400 yards in front of me, so the map I did manage to draw was small and local. That was all I would need for now, I decided. 

Not wanting to draw attention to myself, I transformed and flew back down, picking up my belongings and beginning the trek out to find somewhere safe to spend the night. 

And then my foot landed in something moist and squishy and completely unpleasant. I withdrew it quickly, before it had time to sink into whatever it had stepped in, and looked down. Before me was a length of sand that stretched for maybe fifty feet until it ended in a path again. 

My first reaction was simply to turn around, to find somewhere else to camp and deal with obstacles in the morning, but if I knew the Hunger Games, there would be something worse around the corner if I turned back now. I could fly across it, but that would mean multiple trips to take all of my supplies, because no bird of any size would be able to carry the weight of everything I had with me. 

I tested out the quicksand again, trying to get a gauge of how dense it was. Obviously Capitol fabricated, the sand was much more watery than it most likely would have been in the real world. I could probably swim in it if it weren't for my belongings; those were quickly becoming my biggest problem for the moment. But then again, I did only have my daggers, shield, and pack. 

I tested the shield on the sand, happy to see it floated, then placed the daggers and pack on top of it, careful to make sure they balanced. Now I would just need to become something that could carry these towards the other end. 

Coming up with the strongest being that would be able to float, I took a deep breath and felt my neck elongating, my body growing feathers, my feet widening and flattening. Using my strong neck, I pushed the shield out a bit, careful to avoid tipping, then waddled into the sand, floating carefully on top. It was dense enough that I was able to easily float, and so I paddled out, towards the other end of the sand. Every few feet I had to stop to push the shield ahead of me, but eventually I got to the other side with no problem. 

I quickly shook the sand out of my feathers and transformed back, patting the rest of the sand off of my legs. I then packed up my belongings, took a look at my rough map, and began making my way to where I would spend the night. 

Before I could get going, however, a parachute came floating down, landing at my feet. Had I really appealed to the Capitol? I'd thought there was no way...