In the not so distant past, sleep usually came after a day of drinking. Now that he had been thrown back into the arena with little warning and a new set of morals, it wasn't a lack of alcohol that was keeping Haymitch awake, it was stress and worry. After being ambushed only a few hours before, it was difficult for the former Victor to close his eyes and let them remain that way, and every time he began to nod off, his eyelids snapped open and he found himself searching for Katniss. Every time, she was okay, still alive and still sitting there, looking alert as ever, and proving that she could handle herself. There were many menacing things in the arena, but sleep wasn't the enemy and Haymitch forced himself to relax.

Eventually, rampant exhaustion had come for him, forcing him to sleep without much more of a fight and he stayed that way until the sun began to rise. Those few hours of rest could have easily been the difference between life and death, but Haymitch felt somewhat refreshed as he sat up and began to work out the kink in his neck. The hard earth below was hardly ideal for sleeping and Haymitch was sure that his muscles would be stiff and sore for the rest of the day—the real battle was always day two when the majority of reality set in, when people realized how uncomfortable they were, but still needed to survive.

Soon enough, the pair from twelve were up and ready to move, but the marshes that laid before them were ominous. Thinking back to the day before, when Haymitch had watched that tribute drown, sucked down into the water as if she were nothing, he knew there was no way out of that. “We just have to avoid the water,” he offered, which was easier said than done, “and be clear of this place before that fog starts up again.” So much time had been wasted in the wetlands the day before, and Haymitch was sure that if he and Katniss hadn't needed to run away, they could have been in the shadow of the mountains by now. 

Following behind her, ax in hand, Haymitch made sure to check over his shoulder every once in a while. It was hard telling who could be lurking around, and the career pack often took advantage of nightfall to plan surprise attacks for daybreak. There was no safety anywhere, not even in numbers. “Maybe we'll find the others today,” he said, although he doubted it in the back of his mind. On day two, the alliance was probably still just as scattered as when they had come into the arena. 

Together, they continued along. Haymitch made sure to watch his footing, to not get too close to the edge of the narrow strip of dry land and the black water on either side of them. 

After all that Gale had done that day, only letting him sleep for an hour or so seemed unfair. As Prim allowed the berries to do their job, she looked around the area, scanning the darkness for anyone, good or bad, but there was nothing and the only sound that she could make out was the buzzing of flies in the distance, interrupted by the croaking of frogs. The blonde shuddered, and then reached to poke at the paste of berries on her leg, still wet and sticky, but the wound already felt better. She looked back to Gale and smiled softly, seeing that his eyes were closed—he almost looked peaceful, the way he had back at the Capitol.

The sun rose sooner than it should have, but Prim didn't think that the days would remain consistent over the next seven days. Regardless, she cleaned up her leg and protected the area with a makeshift bandage, wanting to keep out any dirt of water from the wound that was sure to be a scar soon. After, she gently woke Gale, her pack now resting on her shoulders as she looked toward the mountains. They seemed like a world away, and she hoped that the journey would prove to be worth it in the end. “Even if we make it to the edge today,” she said, but never finished, already making bargains for their progress as they set out.

The growl of Gale's stomach was loud, and only served to remind her of how scarce food was. “Do you want some chocolate?” she asked, thankful to have found the extra supplies in those buildings the night before. In the back of her mind, she was sure that those in the Capitol were enjoying a rich breakfast, while the tributes and the rest of the districts starved to death.