[everywhere to run] {Kiara, Day 1}

.:.:.:.:.:.:.
i give you my best though it don't make sense
not to keep in touch
to pretend it's worth less
.:.:.:.:.:.:.

Running on sand was no walk in the park; the only good thing about it was that because of its deep red color the blood dripping down her back from the gash that the stupid Twelve boy had sliced was barely visible as it hit the ground. Kiara tried to ignore the pain as she ran, but it grew to be increasingly difficult as time went on. Eventually she decided she had to slow, even stop; there was no way she could keep on without tending to her injuries. The District Eleven tribute ducked behind a particularly large dune of sand, slipped the backpack from her shoulders, and examined its contents.

Her district token - a crumpled old oak leaf that she'd picked up on the street of District Eleven after remembering she needed a token - rested on top of a surplus of much better things. She'd managed to pick up a fair amount of items during her stay at the Cornucopia; she hadn't located a knife, but with a bit of practice she'd be handy enough with her hatchet. In addition to this, she'd snatched up a few useless things- a towel, a whisk, duct tape, and sandpaper, although duct tape might prove useful at some point - but she'd also snagged a handful of iodine tablets, which would be great for purifying water if she wasn't able to boil it, and a set of bandages, which she could use to tend to her injuries. Deciding that it was better to get that over with right away, the teenager stripped out of her jumpsuit, deciding that it didn't matter that she was in nothing but her undergarments because the cameras would be focused on the raging Bloodbath, anyway, and gingerly wrapped a couple feet of bandages around the gash on her back. The gash on her leg would need stitches to prevent infection, though; how could she take care of that?

As if on cue, suddenly something shiny and silver floated down from nowhere, landing directly at her feet. She poked it tentatively with her whisk, afraid to touch it, but then realized, to her immense surprise, it was a sponsor parachute. I have sponsors? Who the hell cares about me? Kiara dug into her prize eagerly and pulled out a kit with a red cross on it, and her normally hard features immediately lit up in delight. A med kit. Upon further investigation, it was revealed to contain another roll of bandages, which would definitely come in handy, as well as two sets of needles and thread. Shocked, it took her a moment to spring into action, but after a second she grabbed the needle and thread and stitched up the gash on her calf, then applied a bandage and pulled up her hideous red tube sock to make sure it had adequate protection while it healed. Pleased with her handiwork - before training week, she wouldn't have known how to do anything like it - the competitor zipped up her jumpsuit, shoved everything back into her backpack, and attempted to formulate a plan of further action.

Where else could she go? Staying in the sand was definitely not an option. There was no food, water, wood, or coverage here; it was not an adequate place to spend the Hunger Games. She had no choice but to head for one of the towers - and the nearest one, at that, because she'd need an extended rest soon or she'd certainly collapse from fatigue. The closest one looked to be less than a mile away; this was a distance she could cover pretty quickly, sand or not, so she decided to start immediately. What she refused to think about as she ran, though, was the possibility that this tower contained no trees. Kiara needed trees.