THE THREE had camped out inside a spacious cave. The floor was filled with shallow water, though there was a few dry spots for them to sit on. The entrance was shielded with vines, and it was lucky that Nico spotted it at all. They were hidden, for now, and arguably the safest they were ever going to be in the arena.

Despite their safety, the three still stayed quiet. The night was long and Frankie flinched awake at every sound. The canon went off once during the night, meaning only 16 remained.

At night, the Game-makers played a memorial in the sky for every Tribute that had died. Douce, from 3. Dara, from 5. Caspian and Juni, from 6. Romyn and Iris, from 7. Jasper and Zora, from 9. Francesca was relieved to not see the twins had died in the bloodbath; Fletcher and Dorothy were out there somewhere, and so were August and Cherry.

They sat in a tight circle, unzipping their bags from the cornucopia: Francesca's bag contained a knife, four red apples, and a small bottle of water. Kipper was gifted a nuts and spare socks. Nico's bag was a bottle of water and few roles of bandages.

"We should save the apples for later," Kipper cleared his throat, talking lowly because their voices seemed to echo in the cave. He poured out three nuts into the palm of his hand, before offering it to Nico, "Here."

Nico gave a silent nod, before slipping the food into his mouth. He paused, his big eyes sad and empty; he looked between the pair, "She was 13– Dara." He exhaled a deep breath, "She liked to paint. And liked bugs."

Kipper agreed quietly, giving a small smile at the memory, "She told me that butterflies taste with their feet."

Nico's voice was quiet, "Butterflies were her favourite."

Francesca ate a couple of nuts, sharing four with Kipper. She had only known Dara for a few minutes, since they didn't have time to fully introduce themselves in the Training Centre. Dara was the youngest in the group, so it felt unfair that she had died first out of their allies— it was unfair for a 13 year old to be placed in an arena with older teenagers. Francesca thought she was too young to experience this. They all were.

Frankie cleared her throat, "I think we should go. I mean, to find our allies. We're safer in bigger numbers."

Nico shook his head, "We're also safer hidden."

The girl reasoned, "The Careers outnumber us three, Nico. How long will it take for them to find us?"

"She's right," Kipper nodded, standing to his feet, "We can't get comfortable anywhere."

Frankie sighed, looking at the dark-haired boy, "Look, Nico, I know you're upset— you have every right to be. But, my brother told me that we have to be strong. Mentally strong. He says to have a strong heart because that can be just as effective as physical strength."

Nico nodded slowly, before silently standing to his feet in agreement. He placed his hand over the side of his neck, before swatting his hand in the air as if to hit something away. The cave was obviously home to a few insects, which just reminded Nico of Dara.

The three travelled outside the cave; the morning sun shining through the tall trees. The forest floor was damp with shallow water, making every step result in cold splashes flicking up on the back of Frankie's legs.

Because of the bloodbath, Francesca hadn't had to time to fully look at the arena. She gathered yesterday that it was a wetland, the swamp was the centre of the arena, and that the only mutts so far were the singular alligator. The arena was covered with wet grass and slippery mud, and a damp smell lingered in the thick air. The trees were a variety of sizes, and Frankie assumed that the Game-makers had added some larger trees into the arena to provide shelter, because the smaller trees couldn't hold the weight of a climb.

It was quiet, and Frankie guessed that there were multiple small caves around the arena for shelter. She wondered where everybody else was, especially her allies. She knew they were alive since their faces didn't appear in the sky's memorial.

And suddenly, a deafening scream echoed around the arena. Birds flew from the branches of the trees, as Frankie, Kipper, and Nico all crouched down towards the floor. Francesca gripped onto her trident, her eyes wide and hyper aware of every movement.

Kipper whispered, "Where did that scream come from?"

"It sounded close," Nico informed. The three stayed hidden until the aircraft flew in and took the body: Douce, from District 3. Dead.

Frankie's eyes darted towards the muffled sound of arguing. And, through the trees, two blonde Tributes were arguing in the distance. A boy, sat down on a log whilst he cleaned the blood off his axe with a disgusted expression, whilst the girl paced back and forth in front of him.

The girl continued, agitated, "You could have waited for me to get in position! We had her flanked, and you just charged in like a fucking maniac!"

The boy pulled a face defensively, "What do you mean? I had her! She was going for her weapon, I reacted. You were too busy admiring the scenery to notice."

"Admiring the scenery?" The girl scoffed in disbelief, "I was circling around to cut off her escape! If you'd just held back for two seconds, we could have taken her down silently. Now everyone knows we're here!"

"Oh, so now it's my fault we're not master assassins? Dottie, I took her down, didn't I? Maybe if you weren't so busy trying to be sneaky, you could have actually helped!" The boy exclaimed.

Francesca glanced at Nico and Kipper, who were sharing the same confused expression as she was. Though, as the argument went on, Frankie caught a quick glimpse of the girl's face as she paced quickly— Dorothy Evans, meaning the boy was Fletcher. Allies.

Francesca gave a nod of approval, before the three of them began walking towards the pair from a distance. The twins continued to argue:

"Don't start, Fletch. I helped." Dorothy warned, "We need to find a place to hide. Thanks to you, everybody in this fucking arena heard—"

"I'm pretty sure that the big fucking aircraft that swooped down and took the body gave it away." Fletcher shot back, "Not us."

Francesca walked through the forest, each step squelching in the shallow puddles. Nico let out an abrupt cough, causing the twins to become aware.

"Shut up." Dorothy snapped, as she suddenly stopped pacing. Even though they were allies, Frankie was fearful of the twins— they were both impulsive and almost wild. The way Dorothy was looking into the distance, with wide eyes and a stern face intimated Frankie. She added quietly, gripping onto her axe, "Someone's coming."

Fletcher shot up; his face was splattered with Douce's blood. His eyes squinted into the distance, though when he saw the three Tributes walking towards them, his expression relaxed.

"Frankie?" Fletcher greeted, strolling towards the group and giving her a quick hug. The hug was unexpected, though Frankie assumed it was because the boy had just killed someone a few seconds ago— his body was jittering and he was talking much faster than usual. He added sarcastically, as he placed a hand on Kipper's shoulder, "Kip, how's the bow and arrow treating you?"

Dorothy rolled her eyes, "Fletch."

"Hi, Fletcher." Kipper gave a small wave, smirking to himself at the remark.

Dorothy hugged Francesca tightly in greeting, almost relieved that they had reunited alive.

"And, I don't believe we've met." Fletcher continued, looking at Nico, "Shit, you're tall."

"That's Nico," Frankie spoke for the quiet boy, trying to boost his confidence, "He's really smart."

"Oh, I remember," The boy clasped his hands together, "You were studying plants at the Training Centre."

"Yeah," Nico nodded quietly.

Fletcher placed his hand on the boy's shoulder, grinning, "Wow, you are a man of very few words."

"Ignore him," Dorothy said, "He just threw his axe into a girl's head, so he's a bit wound up. More than usual."

"Are you both okay?" Kipper questioned curiously, crouching down to take his backpack off. He unzipped it, offering a bottle of water to them, "Here— to wash off the blood."

"Thank you," Dorothy nodded gratefully, before uncapping the bottle and pouring some on her hands. She reached towards her brother's face, wiping off the blood that stained his skin. She continued, "Where've you been staying?"

"We found a cave," Francesca explained, "A few miles back. It's hidden."

Kipper added curiously, "Have you come across any Tributes, or mutts?"

"The only mutt we've seen was that fucking alligator." Dorothy shook her head at the memory, continuing to wash her brother's skin clean, "We haven't seen the Careers. Only Douce."

"There's 10 Tributes left, not including us." Nico explained, though as he tried to continue, his voice was broken by coughs, "That means—" his coughs were raspy and dry, and his face seemed to have drained of its colour.

"You okay?" Kipper asked, glancing at Frankie in concern.

Dorothy stood up, offering out the bottle of water for him to drink, "Here."

Francesca placed a hand on his shoulder, catching a glimpse of a small lump behind the boy's ear. She frowned in confusion, "Is that a mosquito bite?"

Kipper stood beside the girl, his eyes squinting slightly at Nico's neck, "Looks like it. Hey, don't itch that, man."

Nico caught his breath, swallowing the bottled water; he nodded, "I think... we should make a fire. It'll get dark soon. There's five of us, and 8 of them. August and Cherry, too. There's more of us, so we'll be safer. Hiding will make them think we're afraid."

Francesca nodded in agreement, "Okay. We'll set up a camp, take turns keeping watch. We can find August and Cherry tomorrow."

a/n:
dottie and fletcher are so chaotic i love them!!!!