Name: Quill Diurna

Age: 14

District: 9

Appearance: Curly hair that is a shocking shade of red, sturdy build, blue eyes, scar above his left eye

Personality: Friendly, but quick to act if threatened.

Weapon/Special Ability: Very acute sense of hearing. He can sense someone coming from 100 yards away. He is good with a sword.

Other: He was injured by a barbed wire fence when he was five years old. He lived, but has a permanent scar from the incident.

Name: Nino Herriot

Age: 16 

District: 5

Apperance: Big, strong, jet black crew cut, hazel eyes.

Personality: Determined

Weapon/ Special Ability: A very good sense of smell, good with a bow

Other : Is terrified of snakes

I'll start.

~Raven~

It’s the morning the Hunger Games begin.  I’m too nervous to be hungry, but I eat
because I know I’ll need the energy in the arena.  The reaping was terrible.  I was standing there with my eyes squeezed
shut, hoping that I wouldn’t be the one. 
My name was called, and I walked up, not comprehending.  No volunteers. 
The rest of District 7’s teenage girls wanted to die as little as I
did.  At least my whole family was dead
already.  No one would miss me.  I didn’t know the boy who was called up to
stand beside me.  The closer I got to the
start of the Hunger Games, the more convinced I became that there was no way on
earth that I could win.

As I sit there, eating the luxurious Capitol breakfast that I’ve
been given.  My last meal outside of the
arena.  Before I know it, I’m in my metal
tube, being lifted up into the arena.

Mountains rise up around me. 
Turning, I see alpine lakes peppering them.  The Cornucopia is nestled in a valley, as are
the twenty-four tributes.  A belt of
knives lies near me.  Seven of them; five
built for throwing, two for stabbing.

The gong sounds, and I run for the knives.  They’re mine! 
Then I get out of there, disappearing into the mountains.

When Heather saw the arena she thought she was going to pass out. Her family kept one picture tat was secret, it was a picture of before Panem and it  looked just like the outside lakes and pines and mountines. She picked at herfruit wondering if she could get the stuff in the middle, as she rode up the tube the thougfht consumed her. There! she though looking over and pack of food and med suuplies. As soon as it hit she slithre on her stomach grabbed it and a escaped with a gaping wound on her thigh.

Quill wasn't going to risk it. At the sound of the gong, he picked up the one thing that lay at his feet, a blow dart gun, and sped off towards the mountains. His ears perked up. He heard a sound, 50 yards to the east. He turned around in alarm to see a knife whizzing towards his head. He ducked just in time.

Nino~

It began before I knew it. As I was raised in my tube to the arena, I saw the mountains. They reminded me of district 5. Oh, I wanted to be back in that district so badly. I wanted to just run into my house and hug my little brother. But I couldn't.

When the gong sounded, I ran as fast as I could to the first thing I saw: a sword. Dang it. I hate swords. I like bows. But that didn't matter. I just ran away from the cornucopia, away from the smell of blood I knew too well.

Willy sez Bgni. Willy really wants the hunger games to begin!

The wind seems to whip around me in a wave of hazy colors as I run for the cornucopia, snatching up a bow, a backpack, and a quiver of arrows. They're all I can reach before I hear a whiz behind me and duck, but a knife nicks my side, drawing a little blood. I grab it from the dusty soil and sprint, hoping my attacker will be lured by Cornicopia and will not attempt to follow me. Gritting my teeth, I run for as long as I can, until I am deep into the woods. Slowly, still paralyzed by my fear, I examine my resources. The backpack, a deep forest green color, turns out to be a good choice. It contains a small package of crackers, a bag of dried meat strips, and a few rolls of bandages, as well as a bottle of iodine for cleaning water. Near the bottom, there is a sleeping bag roll, some rope, and a half full water bottle, as well as some anti-infection wipes that will be useful in cleaning wounds. I rejoice in my findings, as well as the bow, the chief jewel of my gatherings from the cornucopia. Ebony black, it falls naturally within my fingers, and I test it on a nearby tree. Yes.... This will work well. I have been an expert at the bow since childhood, feeding myself when my parents died of the fever. Just having one almost makes me feel at home again. As the sun begins to set, cannons go off, signaling the deaths of the tributes. I count eleven, but I am not concentrating. I climb to the top of the highest tree I can find, smashing out the camera lens that attempts to watch me. I want to be alone, if only for one more night. As the anthem plays, my heart shakes. This is what they all hear, so close to the end. There is no way I could win this. I have no allies, no one to trust. But perhaps I can just outlast the others? Little do I know, my bow will be of greater use to me than I expected. 

~Raven~

I take off in a direction that none of the other tributes
appear to be heading in.  By the end of
the day, I’ve reached an alpine lake on the other side of a mountain from the
Cornucopia.  There are so many lakes,
there’s not much of a chance that someone else will come here soon.

Now here’s the dilemma. 
I need water, but I don’t know if this is safe.  I don’t have iodine tablets.  I can’t start a fire to boil the water
without someone seeing it.  I’ll have to
take a chance.  I cup my hands and sip a
little lake water.  I need more, but I
still don’t know if it’s safe.

Eleven faces are in the sky tonight.  Eleven tributes are dead.  Thirteen of us are left.

I curl up in a ball in a tree.  I hope I don’t die of hypothermia.

I awake to the boom of a cannon.  Half of us are dead now.  A squirrel wanders on the ground below the
tree I’ve been sleeping in.  I slept with
my knife belt on, so I pull out one of the lightweight, streamlined throwing
ones, and aim.  I haven’t used one of
these before, but I manage to pin the squirrel to the ground by its tail.  Jumping down, I pull out another knife and
kill the squirrel.

I can build a fire now; it won’t be seen in the
daytime.  The squirrel tastes wonderful.

Every muscle in my body tenses.  Another tribute has appeared across the lake.