D8 Bloodbath

Timothy's POV:

Charlene, where is she? I barely glance at the Arena, sneering slightly at its appearance, staring anxiously around the circle of tributes. Where is she?

Charlene's POV:

The sun is so bright, it hurts. I squint, huddling down on my platform, sun glinting off the Cornucopia and the river, straight into my eyes. I turn to look behind me and overbalance, and I'm falling...

Timothy's POV:

I gasp in horror as Charlene's scream of terror rips through the air, drowning out the sound of the giant clock ticking. She has twisted on her plate and lost her balance, clawing at the air in horror as she struggles to stand upright. I clench my fists, praying she regains her balance, but instead she falls...

Charlene:

My feet slip from under me and I fall, twisting in midair and managing to tuck my legs under. I land on the plate mere seconds before the bell goes, winding myself. I roll off, playing dead as everyone runs for the bounty to my right, hoping to escape the bloodbath...

Timothy:

No blast accompanies her fall, she must still be alive. I run forward, elbowing others out my way as I snatch up three backpacks. One of them is ridiculously heavy, let's hope that weight is something good. I continue running, darting behind other tributes when possible, crouching low and zigzagging when not. I drag Charlene to her feet, thrusting one of the packs into her arms and practically dragging her still as we run across a bridge into the woods. I glance up - if the sun is right, we're heading east. Good, if we are being tracked our shadows will soon be in front of us, and we won't be facing the sun.

Charlene:

I am gasping for breath, barely able to keep up. "Timothy - I have to slow down," I manage to force out about a mile into the woods. "I'm a weaver, remember, not a marathon sprinter!" He's more cut out for this sort of thing, the boys were always wrestling and racing and whatnot back at home.

Timothy:

One glance at her tells me we'd better slow, or she'll drop dead anyway. Checking behind a fallen log for snakes, I sit down and start checking over the packs. Not much in them, no water, of course, only a little dried fruit, three blankets total, two ropes, and-

Charlene:

"A knife." I hand it to Timothy, watching him examine it. He sits thinking about what to do, muttering plans and calculations to himself. My mind wanders back, to eight o'clock this morning....

"I want you both to know," Kataro said, tears running freely down his pink-tinted face, "that you are the most wonderful pair I've ever escorted, and I - I hate seeing you go in there!" he burst out. "I don't want either of you to die, b-but if you d-do, I promise I'll see y-you get a good b-b-burial..." He was crying so hard by then he could barely finish, and Charlene hugged him tightly.
"I promise one of us will come back to you," she promised sadly, and Timothy pulled out the scrap of cloth that had been his token, handing it to Kataro.
"In case it isn't me," he murmured, causing his escort to break down in fresh tears and hugged him tightly.
Charlene couldn't help a silent giggle as Timothy's eyes bugged out and he grimaced in embarrassment. Pulling her token out as well, she handed it to Kataro as he released Timothy, and she too was once again tightly embraced by their escort.

Timothy:

I glance at Charlene to see if she's listening to me, and see her sitting there in a heap of misery with tears running down her face. "You don't have to if you don't want to, you can be lookout," I add.

Charlene:

Timothy's voice brings me back with a start, and from the way he is looking at me I know I must've been dazed out quite awhile. "What?" I ask awkwardly, still torn between past and present with an odd sense of surrealism. He sighs and shakes his head at my ditzyness, repeating his words. "We need to chop down the bridges during the bloodbath and strand as many as we can in the middle. There has to be another source of fresh water somewhere in the arena, we need to find and poison it, too."
He's crazy. Loopy. "Um, hello? We're not air plants, we need water too."
He looks annoyed at this obvious flaw. "Fine, we'll wait by the water and kill anyone coming to get it. I still think we should control the only bridge..."
"That sounds more sensible," I agree, and he promptly throws one of the packs to me.
"Good, gear up, and let's go burn some bridges!"
"Hang on," I say slowly. "All we have to do is burn all but one, and we're dead. Whoever is left by the Cornucopia will have food, water, and weapons...specifically bows and arrows."

Timothy:

Really, Charlene isn't stupid, but she's way too negative, and not half opportunist enough. "Then we'll wait till the Careers are hunting, dopey, and be the ones left at the Cornucopia! Now, unless you have more gloomy predictions, come on."

Charlene:

He can be so obnoxious. Why are the obnoxious ones always right? Or is it vice versa...they are obnoxious because they know they are right and can afford to be rude...either we do it their way anyway, or we fail...I follow him as he treks back the way we came, wishing I were home with a cup of tea and a book.