Kline and Mason
Rhainnon had tossed one of the snakes away with her trident, and Kline used this opportunity to get his bearings again. Meanwhile, Mason was already taking initiative and bounded in towards them, managing to bash one's head in while slicing at the other with the ax. While the club made its mark, the ax didn't. And unfortunately for Mason, that gave the snake ample time to wrap itself around his lower leg in revenge, slicing through the uniform he had covering it and beginning to slice through the flesh as well. He gave out a bit of a a painful grunt, not wanting to move enough to rip more skin. Kline came behind him to help, taking its head off with a swing of his sword. It was dead, but the body was still wrapped around Mason's leg, razor sharp. And neither of them wanted to endanger their hands to take it off, but they had to if Mason was going to move. And fast, to treat the wounds underneath.
Mason was breathing hard, trying to concentrate on something other than the razors in his leg, "How are we going to get this off? Its stuck in there?"
He winced, knowing the only way to get it off was to tear it off, one coil at a time. Luckily, it was only below the knee. But still, this could prove damaging if he needed to run soon. That, and they still needed to find shelter for the night. It was getting late, they would get no where in the dark and who knows what out here hunts at night. Just then, the anthem could be heard ringing through the trees. It was midnight, and time for the nightly deaths list. Vespia's fellow tribute had died.
Crimson
The anthem of the Capitol roared throughout the swamp, loud enough for all to hear. The seal of the Capitol raised high in the night sky, blocking out the moon. Then, the faces began.
The girl from district one.
The boys from two, three, four, five, seven.
Both from eight.
The boys from nine, ten, and twelve.
The anthem came to a close.
Eleven dead. Thirteen Alive. For now.