Board Thread:Roleplay/@comment-27458579-20170625182511/@comment-27396384-20170627182759

SamdiTheNotSoGreat wrote: Once the countdown had ended, Barley stood on his pedestal. ''He wanted to run, but he couldn't. He was frozen in place, anchored by an unknown force. He watched as tributes ran in different directs. Watched as vicious murders took place in front of him. He stared. He watched. He shook. He was scared. Why was the arena so uncontrolled? Why were people so ... cruel?'' Barley finally shook himself out of it.

''He bolted from his podium towards to Cornucopia. He ducked under a pair of tributes battling over a sword and gripped a backpack in his hands. He ran. He ran as fast as he could. He swerved past other tributes too busy to notice him, and, sadly, bodies as well.''

''He ran towards the east side of the arena, to the trees. As soon as he thought he was deep enough in the forest to be safe for now, he leaped up a tree, scaling it with his backpack slung over his shoulder. Once he reached a high enough branch, he peeked into it. Inside was a single stale roll, a lighter, a ragged blanket, and a coil of rope.''

He didn't know how any of this would be useful - except for the roll for food.