I opened my mouth to scream as the girl from before, Cedera Rowans, stepped out of the shadows along with a burly, muscular man that was taller than all three of us--Roger, did Cedera call him?--. Cedera wielded a sword and a spear in hand, with a bow slung across her back, arrows tied to her waist.

She sneered at me, weighing the spear in her hand. "Oh, you're the girlie who I tried to kill. Oh well. I shall finish the job tonight!" She laughed maniacally, her eyes shining as she prepared the spear to throw. 'Try to run, little fishies! Go on, swim away!"

I did. I whirled around and ran back to the pond, my only retreat. I mean, I could stay and fight, but that would be suicide. As soon as I was in reach, I leaped and dived into the water, creating a big splash.

I thrust my head above water, gasping for air as I swiftly paddled away, not even checking to see if Iver was following. Cedera looked insane, her eyes having a wild look and that creepy way she talks. Just everything about her seems... unnatural.

I finally reached the bank on the far shore, and I collapsed, completely waterlogged, on the now-wet sand. When I turned my head, I saw Iver dashing through the water, looking totally frightened, while Roger followed not that far behind. Cedera was still on land, notching an arrow from her quiver.

I staggered to my feet and stretched out a hand for Iver to grab. He wasn't that far away now... just a little bit closer...

Suddenly, two orange octopus tentacles snapped out of the water and grabbed Iver and Roger, wrapping their feelers around their bodies so they were completely stuck. Then a huge octopus head splashed out of the water, so big it was impossible that it was real. Yep, I thought disappointedly. This was a creation of the Gamemakers.

I rushed to the edge of the beach, trying to analyze the situation with a solution. It didn't help my nerves at all with Cedera splashing into the water, paddling strongly towards the octopus.

Come on! Think! I screamed at my immobile brain. No ideas answered me.

So I decided to start things with eliminating things I shouldn't do.

I obviously shouldn't jump in, I think, my heart thumping. I would get trapped by the octopus, too, since octopi have eight tentacles. I also might get shot by Cedera.

I have no bow and arrows to fire to try to kill the octopus. My simple knife wouldn't do much damage against it.

I fearfully stared at Iver, who was beginning to turn pale. The octopus was squeezing him to death! Cedera, too, was nearing the octopus, a triumphant gleam in her eye. I needed to think of something quick, quick...

I made eye contact with Iver, and made a sawing motion with my knife. He nodded, seeming to understand, so I aimed the best I could...

...and threw my knife.

I took a dangerous risk, throwing my knife. I could've easily misjudged the distance and it would be gone forever, into the water, and Iver would die and Cedera would kill me.

But I prayed to God with all my might that Iver would be able to catch it. Please please please please please PLEASE, God! I begged, biting my nails in anticipation. Please let Iver catch it! Please! I will give everything I have to the poorer people, I will give away all my food to the hungry...

The knife skittered across the octopus's tentacle that was holding Iver, and he made a desperate lunge for it, but it was too late.

The knife fell, and time seemed to slow down as it inevitably fell towards the pond's surface, promising Iver's death and doom for me, for my family back at District Four...

Until Iver caught it with his feet.

Even Cedera froze, staring in astonishment as Iver kicked the knife up and expertly caught it in his hand before sawing the tentacle of the octopus, which was apparently very easy, and still holding the knife, was able to free himself and swim away as the decapitated tentacle crashed into the water.

Cedera seemed to regain herself as Iver swam away, and as she left Roger to die, she threw her spear as I stretched out my hand again for my friend.

Her weapon speared Iver in the foot, slowing him down and enabling her to catch up, but I firmly grabbed his hair, which was really long, and yanked him onshore. Not even hesitating, I slung him across my back and stumbled away into the woods, where Cedera watched us, her eyes glittering with hate but glory for driving us off her territory.

I laid Iver down in our den, tugging off his shoe and his sock to see if the spear shaft was actually embedded in his foot. And it was, pretty deeply. Blood oozed out of the wound, drizzling down the length of his foot.

I bit my lip. The spear had to be removed, obviously. Maybe I can use some leaves or moss to soak up the blood. But I'll need something so that it doesn't infect.

I turned to look at Iver's face. His skin was still paler than usual, and his eyes were closed as his breathing turned ragged.

"Iver, I'm going to be pulling the spear out," I say, hoping he could hear me. Without allowing myself to have time for hesitating, I put one hand on his bleeding foot, the other on the spear, and yanked as hard as I could.

His scream pierced the air, and his eyes flew open, dark with pain. The spear wasn't even completely removed yet. I yanked again, harder this time, and he screamed louder.

I tugged a little more, trying to ignore his screeches and whimpers, until the tip finally gave way and I fully removed the spear. Putting it down, I went outside to collect thick moss and sturdy leaves, which wasn't hard, and pressed them on the wound.

"Hold it there until I get something to tie it together with," I commanded Iver, who whimpered in acknowledgment and did as I asked. I went outside again, found a baby plant and uprooted it, then plucked all the leaves off before sliding back in the den and expertly tied it around his foot.

The moss started to get dark with too much blood, so I switched it out with fresh moss, including a lot of extras.

When I returned, I laid next to Iver, listening to his breathing and the sounds of the night, keeping watch. I don't think I could've slept, anyway.

The sun was only beginning to rise when Iver awoke. He stared at me as he ran a hand through his hair.

"Did you stay up all night?" he asked.

I nodded, too tired to sleep.

Iver laid my head on his lap and started to stroke my hair. "You should sleep," he suggested. "You can't keep your strength up by pulling an all-nighter."

I started to protest. "But your injured foot needs new moss and we don't have any weapons and you need some sort of disinfectant for your wound--"

"Shh," Iver murmured. "Go to sleep, Luna. Forget all of your woes and just simply... sleep."

That did sound inviting. So I let my body relax and...

Slept.