You were carefully and quietly walking through the woods, around an hour after the Games started. There was a big cut from another tribute sitting on your arm, dark cherry red blood dripping down your elbow. You then hear crunching on leaves and quickly turn around to see a dirty blonde boy, who puts his hands up in surrender when he notices you.

“I won’t hurt you if you don’t hurt me. Deal?” He says, walking closer but still cautious. He then notices your cut. “That looks pretty bad..”