Insert Epic Title Here.

Wren settled down in her bed of cattails near the far side of the lake as the sky begins to darken, the sun setting in the arena turning the air a few degrees colder then it already was. Her heart sinks in her chest; Lucas should be with her by now, she should be protecting him, making sure he’s fed, and warm and safe. She hugs her body to herself, trying to keep warm as the world turns dark around her, small stars popping out in the night sky. Her eyes focused in on her backpack that she was clutching that held the poison darts; she still couldn’t believe she had them…and she was just as afraid to use them. Just then her eyes were ripped from the backpack as the sky lit up and the capitol montage blared across the arena. She held her breath as the faces of dead tributes that she had only just seen hours ago hung in the air. Then Wren’s world stopped. She wanted to rub her eyes, close them and pretend this was all a bad dream, scream. Lucas’s face appeared on the sky. Then it was gone. The last time she would see her brother’s smiling face, his blonde hair and bright blue eyes, his dimpled chin and furry eyebrows, and his slightly crooked nose and teeth. She opened her mouth to scream, to yell, to say something but the only thing that came out was a choke. She knew that the cameras were all pointed at her right now, the world watching her reaction to her brother’s death. She didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of her sorrow, but it was so hard not too. Her whole body racked with silent sobs. Her mind raced and raced, replaying the time she spent with her brother running through the grain fields, holding him as an infant, comforting him when he cried. It was all her fault-No. It wasn’t her fault, it was the capitol. They knew Lucas wouldn’t resist a slingshot, a sleek, fancy one. They did this. They killed her brother, and they were going to regret it.