<span style="font-style: italic">Still he's trying to help me survive</span>, thought Eden at what Rye suggested, flattered yet shameful for burdening the two.<span style="font-style: italic">Or maybe he's just trying to use me for his own survival.</span>He tensed at this uncalled for thought, wondering where it came from more than considering it. When he opened his mouth to respond to Rye, he uttered a cracked groan before clearing his throat and murmuring, "Uh, yeah... that's fine. I don't really hurt that much anymore." His eyes softened when Rye closed in on him, yet was very careful not to graze his body against his own.<span style="font-style: italic">No, he does care. He has to.</span>The idea seemed foreign to Eden.<br/><br/>Emery glanced over at the two and blinked at Rye's outstretched hand toward her.<span style="font-style: italic">Eh</span>... she thought with reluctance. The fact that she was nude in front of two guys irked her. However, her health was on the line and, she wouldn't admit it, it was rather her pride that hesitated her; not her uncomfortableness toward huddling with Rye and Eden. She smirked at Ry<span style="font-style: italic">e. Might as well get rid of that last smidgeon of self-respect</span>, she told herself as she crawled over to him. She squeezed herself between Rye and Eden, trying not to put too much pressure on Eden's body. With her back to Rye, she held her arms to her chest and laid her head on the stone floor.<br/><br/>Emery sighed as she soaked up the heat from the bodies on either side of her. Although Eden was dry, she felt most of the warmth emanate from Rye behind her. She pressed her back up against him a little more, wondering if any part of him was protruding. She mentally scolded herself for having that idea cross her mind for she couldn't assuage her curiosity now. With a frustrated huff, Emery just ignored the nagging thoughts and let herself fall asleep.<br/><br/>***<br/><br/>"Welcome to Day Three, tributes!" bellowed the Gamemaster's voice. Halting their reconstruction of the Cornucopia tent, Stark and the other Careers looked up at the bright, cloudless sky. The faceless voice continued, "We have yet another announcement for you: Day Z Winkle is dead!" Stark's face turned rigidly furious, with a clenched jaw and angry blue eyes. "She was attacked by one of our giant spiders and succumbed to its venom. While this wasn't the fate we had in mind for her, Ms. Winkle's death is all that truly matters. Since her death was from natural causes, there is no one to credit for her murder."<br/><br/>Stark scoffed and muttered, "So no one gets the goddamn gun."<br/><br/>"However," said the voice with an audible smile, "there is someone to blame for her unfortunate demise. And that person is Rye Cievers, who lead his group to the dangerous cave and caused Ms. Winkle's death and the critical condition of the other. And so, we reward Rye Cievers with the pistol. Thank you and may the odds be ever in your favor."<br/><br/>Stark's mouth fell open as he got even more enraged. "<span style="font-style: italic">Bullshit!</span>" he roared, throwing down the tent's pole. "He didn't kill her! Those<span style="font-style: italic">idiots</span>! If she just died, there is no winner!" Stark put his fingers to his temples and sighed. After a silent moment, Jacobine gazed at the sky and pointed, saying, "Stark. Look." Stark raised his eyes to where Jacobine pointed and saw a parachute carrying a box passing over them.<br/><br/>"It must be the gun," murmured Coren. With a relaxed expression, Stark smirked a little and said, "Well, alright, then."