A canon shot was heard in the distance, and Wolfwood knew it was the person from district 2 he sent tracker jackers at. He laughed at the sound, running from the scene. The games had been going great for him so far. He expected to be dead quickly when they started, but now he had a few kills and supplies from sponsors. He had some hope. He knew he wouldn't win, that blondie on district 12 seemed to be far too good at this. But he could at least shoot his shot. The guy from district 5 he became allies with, for now. Though, he could already be dead and Wolfwood didn't hear the canon shot. Oh, well.

He continued his run, keeping his eye out for anyone tracking him down and for a spot to hide out for a while. He knew some people were after him, he was getting kills left and right and they didn't want to be next. Maybe he was a little cocky, but he deserved to be in this game to the death. And if he dies, he might as well have some fun before he dies a gruesome and miserable death.

He stumbled, tripping over a branch and rolling down a hill, barely even managing to shield his face. When he stopped stumbling, he groaned, feeling small cuts on his face and sticks in his hair. He was going to get up and keep running, but he instantly fell back over with a pained sound, clutching his leg,

"Fuck, really? Now this happens?" He rolls up his pantleg. Okay, at least it wasn't broken. But it was for sure fucked up. He couldn't run on this now. His ankle was already red. He tried moving his foot, hissing at the pain. "Delightful. A ruined ankle. That's what gets me to my weak point."