The two of them ended up making camp at the end of the valley. Both of them weren't in the mood to talk. Quinn couldn't even think of a way to form her own words. Her brain was fuzzy, and jumbling everything together to make one big mess. She just wanted to sort things out, she just wanted to fully convince herself that she could win, that she wanted to win-- mostly because she had decided that the idea of dying there, in the arena...it terrified her. And besides that, she didn't want Snow to have that satisfaction. But at the same time, she couldn't even begin to imagine what it would be like outside of the arena.

Would she even be able to function? Or would she go crazy like Annie? Or maybe she'd just lock herself away after her Victory Tour like so many other Victor's. That seemed a bit more enjoyable-- being able to suffer all on her own, not trying to explain anything to anyone seemed so much easier.

"Congratulations, Tributes." Quinn flinched and looked up at the purplish sky at the sound of Seneca Crane's voice. "The seven of you have made it to day eight," his voice sounded like it was a good thing. That they were lucky. "Now, you are all in desperate need of something. Make your way to the Cornucopia, and at dawn there will be something there for each of you." he explained.

Calab looked over at Quinn, a bit of hope in his eyes.

"However, each and every one of you must go." Seneca Crane continued, "Each of you have a tracker that is controlled by the gamemakers," he paused. "If you do not make it to the Cornucopia by dawn, your tracker detonate and you will be taken out of the games." his voice fell silent, and the air in the arena seemed to get thicker at the thought of a small bomb being implanted in her arm. "May the odds be ever in your favor."

Quinn felt her heart beginning to pound violently in her chest. This was what she had been dreading, a feast. A excuse for the Gamemakers to possibly end the games by pushing all of the tributes together.

"We should start going..." Calab stated, his voice was hushed. He wasn't trying to hide any bit of fear he may have had.

Quinn thought for a moment, "But we are too far, aren't we?" she asked, looking up at him as he pushed himself up from the ground.

He shook his head, "It's right on the other side of Victor's Valley." he said, pointing towards the valley that they were so close to. The valley that he had just been escaping with his other allies.

"Do you think we'll get through?" she asked, stabbing her trident into the ground as best as she could so she could pull herself up. She leaned against it, a stabbing pain shot through her theigh and radiated through her entire leg. It was like her leg was a metal pole and had gotten struck by lightning. The pain still hadn't gotten nearly as unbearable as it had been, her body was just getting more and more used to it.

He sighed, "We have to try." he replied, "Otherwise..." his voice trailed off. "We don't have a choice." he stated as he motioned to his own forearm.

Together, the two of them made their way through the rest of the ridge filled valley. Although each step was painful, the thought of dying at dawn because she wasn't fast enough was just enough to scare her into forcing herself to hurry up and keep up with Calab. The sun had only set a few hours earlier, and the anthem hand already played. So they had a good chunk of time to get across the valley that Calab called Victor's Valley. The only problem was that it wasn't day light, it was the middle of the night. And if Calab, Scout, and Jakobb had been right, then that meant that there were mutations of Victor's waiting for them in the tree's.

Before the two of them crossed over into the valley, Calab pulled off his backpack and quickly pulled out the two full canteens and handed one up to Quinn.

"It'll give you a bit of energy to get you through the tree's." he said simply, she nodded and quickly screwed off the lid and gulped down most of the water. He did the same thing. There was something different in the air, it was the same sort of tension that had been in the arena during the first bloodbath at the Cornucopia. The feeling of a dark, and looming fate for all of them-- it was almost tangiable. "The tree's are pretty thick. As long as you keep moving and don't stop for anything." he said simply.

"But...they're Victors. They've--"

"They are mutts." he corrected, "The real Victor's are sitting back and watching the games in the comfort of the Tribute Center."

Quinn nodded, as she quickly forced the image of Finnick and Mags relaxing in the living area of he penthouse. Perhaps drinking some fruity drink with Ciruss and Remilda. "Yeah, right."

Calab gave her a weak smile, "Alright, let's go." Calab turned and hesitantly led the two of them into the dense tree's that were waiting for them...

* * * *

He had never spent so much time. in the room with all the gamemakers. President Snow had always enjoyed watching the games in the comfort of the Presidential home. But Seneca was sure that he was comfortable there as well. His eye's stayed glued on two screen's, one was of the Cornucopia-- where the girl from Two and the boy from One were already waiting for the other tributes. Like expected of career tributes, they had stayed as close as possible because they knew there was always a feast of some sort. Then the second screen was of the Valley of Mutant Victors, where the boy from Two and Quinn Maverick were hurrying through.

"Put in the career districts." Seneca ordered and a gamemaker tapped a few buttons and then touched the diagram of the arena. Placing in career Victor's.

"Don't sick them on Maverick." Snow ordered from his place on the balcony over looking the gamemakers when he looked away from the screen. "Only on the boy."

Seneca looked up at him, shocked at the sound of the order. "Sir, she's got a infection in her blood from her leg," he noted as he pressed in a number and Quinn Mavericks information appeared above the diagram. A few other the other gamemakers looked between Seneca and Snow, wondering if Seneca would cave into yet another one of President Snow's orders regarding his job. "It would be suspicious if they only went after the boy and not her. It's not realistic."

Snow sighed, "Seneca, Ms. Maverick is a special case, don't you remember our conversation last night?" he asked, raising an eyebrow sharply. "She is much more use to us as a Victor then she is as a tribute."

Seneca looked at him for a moment, "You...you actually want us to help her win?"

A small smile fell onto Snow's face, "I want you to let her get to the Cornucopia, by their rate that shouldn't be too hard. If she'd killed there, then so be it." he replied, "But, I would prefer if I got to speak with Ms. Maverick face-to-face again."

A doubtful, and possibly irritated look took over Seneca. "But..." he paused, thinking it over. The gamemakers in charge of the mutts glanced at one another and then at him. As he turned towards them, "Sick the mutts on the boy from Two...not Four."

* * * *

Quinn and Calab weren't entirely running. They were jogging if anything. Quinn held out one hand to knock branches out of her face, and she already head a few scratches on her arm and face from them. And she kept her eyes close on Calab who was a few long strides ahead of her and she couldn't even begin to try to keep up with him.

It wasn't until he was almost out of view when something hit her. At first she thought it was just a branch, but it didn't feel like one. It felt like a metal rod connecting with her face so hard that it made her fall backwards. The rod had hit the bridge of her nose, and she could already tell that it was broken.

"Quinn!"

"Calab! Run!" she shouted back instantly, just as she was able to actually open her eyes. Although it was a bit blurry, and she could feel her nose beginning to bleed-- she saw Finnick standing above her. He wore the same sort of clothes they had all been put in at the beginning of the games. And he held a trident that looked identical to hers.

She held her trident across he chest, ready to stab it into the mutt. But she couldn't make herself, it looked like Finnick-- for all she knew, it could have been the real Finnick. And even if it wasn't, it couldn't be easy for the real Finnick, Mags, or even Annie to watch him die again. Besides that, if she won, how would he see her? How would she see him? The Finnick she knew wasn't like this, she knew that. This was a mutt...but still...

The mutt rose his trident to stab her with it, but as quickly as he began to bring it down towards her chest, he dropped the trident. It hit her, but her own trident stopped it from actually leaving any serious damage besides a few cuts. The mutts eye's widened, and it stumbled before toppling over, landing on top of her.

Quinn felt her stomach beginning twist. She could feel fresh blood from the mutt through her shirt-- but it wasn't just a mutt. It was a mutt of her mentor, and she had just seen him get killed. The life left it right in front of her. The thought of something happening to the real Finnick made her sick. Finnick was like her family, he had even said so himself...

Suddenly the mutts body was pulled off of her and was limp beside her as Calab pulled her up. His machete covered in blood.

"Come on!" he ordered, pulling her along. But she could barely see straight, she could barely think straight either. How was she supposed to run? Before she came up with a real answer, the two of them ran into the clearing. Quinn expected him to stop to take a break, but he didn't. "The next part isn't that long, promise. We're almost there!" he said, his voice was rushed, loud, and he was struggling to catch his breath.

The two of them ran into the next of trees, and they were separated. They weren't that far from each other, but then again they hadn't been that far apart when she was nearly killed by a mutation of Finnick. Calab had been right, there wasn't much left of the valley. She could see the purplish light shinning on the tall tree's from the steep hill that surrounded the Cornucopia. She had never wanted to get to the Cornucopia so bad-- she just wanted out of this valley. She stopped trying to push branches out of her way, it was no use anyway. Her face was already a fountain of blood because of her nose that was obviously broken.

As soon as she reached the end of the tree's, she ran and then slowed down until she was literally stumbling. Then finally, she just lowered herself onto the ground. Her hand was still gripping her trident, and her other hand didn't know what to grab. Her throbbing leg, her bleeding nose, or wipe the sweat off her forehead. Her chest rose and fell violently as she gasped for air.

Quinn took a deep breath and flopped over into a sitting position, and looked at the line of trees. She could have sworn that she saw a shadow figure move further into the tree's. She stared into the tree's for a moment, waiting for Calab to burst out. He hadn't been that far behind her, or she hadn't been that far behind him. That was more possible. She looked around, and no where in the light from the fake sky did she see Calab. The only thing she heard was a single cannon that was fired practically right above her.

She felt her heavy breathing get caught in her throat. There had to have only been one other tribute with her in that valley, and that was Calab. He had saved her, he could have gotten out. He could have had a chance to win, but he helped her instead. And what did he get in return? A way out of the arena in a box, that was it. She hadn't known him long, but she felt like she had just lost a friend-- someone who hadn't deserved to die at all. A good person who hadn't deserved to be in the games at all.

He reminded her of Jenson, and she felt like she had just lost him.

But now she had to win.

For Calab.