Upon first glance, you may not find anything strange about this section of the arena. You’ve seen forests before - at least on the television. But as you dash through the moss-coated oaks and towering redwoods, you begin to realize the low stone walls you’re tripping over aren’t walls at all; they’re petrified wood! Upon closer inspection, you can see the old knots and rings. Each piece is a delicate blue grey color and cool to the touch. In the middle of the forest, a small geyser bubbles. The water tastes okay, maybe a tad sulphuric, but that’s not the real danger here...
Unlike the rest of the arena, which looks parched, this section is lovingly maintained. The vineyard rows are perfectly straight, the vines lush with dark fruit, ready for the picking. At the end of each row, a rose bush bellwether blooms in a riot of colors. Any blight promises to wilt the roses first. The rows undulate over the gently rolling hills. In the mornings, fog rolls over the fruit, promising a bountiful and delicious harvest. At night, a heavy moon and stars shines peacefully overhead.
What was once paradise has been paved over in anticipation of Panem’s MEGASUPERGIGANTORMART! A banner advertisement billows in the hot wind, crowning the area. The foundations are laid in the center of the Cornucopia, and all around is hard, black, hot asphalt, with perfectly drawn white lines. There’s no cars to be seen, but a few shopping carts rest on the concrete foundation, filled to the brim with things you’ll need. Because at MEGASUPERGIANTORMART, you’ll find only the HIGHEST quality for the LOWEST price!
You’ve struck it rich, partner! But will that matter when all this is over? Built into a dusty hill side, the mouth of the mine is supported by very questionable looking beams. If you’re brave enough to walk along the old rail tracks into the dark, you might find a few glittering nuggets - or maybe treasure infinitely more valuable.
Bring your yoga mats and find your zen. This serene, quiet nook in the arena is just the respite you’ve been seeking. The redwoods tower so far overhead, it’s difficult to tell if it’s night or day. A coastal fog keeps the temperature at a damp 65 degrees F. In the mornings, it’s so thick, it runs off the fuzzy red trunks in rivulets. Other than the sound of your footsteps on the pine needles, there’s nothing to disturb the peace. Of course, if you’re looking to hide, yours are the only noises in the forest. No birds, no prey, not even a few flowers to rustle in the light breeze. Just you and the towering redwoods, looming.
At first, you might think you’ve stumbled onto an oasis. Lush ferns grow along cleared pathways, and heavy palms bow overhead. There’s even something like a pond up ahead. But don’t make the mistake of drinking from it; the tar that fills the pits is molten. If you’re enterprising enough, you might be able to jar some for later use, but beware: fall into one of these pits, and you’re sure to become a fossil yourself.
Located along the best - pardon, I meant, west - side of the area, the rocky shoreline hides under a thin layer of fog. Twice a day the crash of ocean waves recedes to reveal pockets in the jagged black rocks. The pools are no more than two feet deep at most. Their water is crystal clear, revealing all manner of sealife, from urchins to colorful crabs to soft anemones. There’s even a few little fish darting around, just waiting to be caught. Don’t dally here too long though; as they say, the tide waits for no one.
The black rocks of the Tide Pools give way slowly to the soft earth and scrappy iceplant of the sea cliffs. From the edge of the cliff, it looks like the choppy blue-grey sea is endless. Fifty feet below you, eager waves roar and crash against the sides of the cliffs, occasionally revealing a tiny beach. But there’s no path - or ladder - down, so you’ll just have to be content with the view.