Knives knew he would win. He didn't think he'd be up against you. The sad little person from a district he didn't even remember. He acknowledged your talent and that was about it. He thought you were one of the canons, though. Not who he would be up against. Maybe you were more then he thought you were.

But probably not. You probably survived out of pure luck. You were probably out hiding in a cave until he found you or you died of some random cost forced by the game runners. This would be too easy. Just like every other person he had killed. He would win this years hunger games and go home with a proud smirk on his face. His mentor would be proud, his whole district. It would be great.

The rustling of leaves startled him, and he looked in every direction, gripping his sword tightly. He heard the sound of mockingjays. A squirrel ran past and into a tree, distracting him. He straightened his posture, coming to a conclusion that it was nothing and you were still hidden.

Then he got tackled down from behind, the weight of another person on his back and a switchblade being held point down by his neck. He struggled, trying to force you off him, "Oh, no you don't-" He managed to shove you, grabbing the sword he dropped when you tackled him and standing with it, pointing the edge of the sword at the center of your chest.

"So the rat finally made a move."