Nudity in solitude.

For a fleeting, hopeful moment, Katniss allowed herself to believe that she wasn't the only one bare; it was foolish, but even she had hope sometimes.

It didn't last. Soon, she adjusted to the sunlight, and saw the ring of contestants - all looking somewhere on a spectrum between amused and astonished. Katniss was grateful for her distance from the other contestants; it would make it difficult for them to see the pink flush on her cheeks.

She allowed herself five seconds of self pity, before strengthening again. Fine, she would have to compete - and find a way to launch a revolution - nude. She could manage.

Despite telling herself that, she felt as embarrassed as ever, crossed an arm over her breasts. She was, despite having grown up with a doctor for a mother, almost prudish about nudity. This was _not _how she wanted this day to go.

She studied the arena, as the game-makers went through the usual announcements - more for the viewers at home, than anything else. They each stood on a floating platform, around six meters between each one, in a loose ring. The cornucopia stood on a solid rock platform in the center. Between them and that was simply ocean.

Katniss was a strong swimmer; her father had taught her when she was young. And yet, somehow she didn't relish the idea of swimming towards it, so very exposed.

She had two choices. She could rely on her speed in the water - and, no doubt, the shock at her nudity - to get supplies. Or, she could dive into the water and swim to shore, around 20 metres away, tress lining it, and find shelter.

Either way, she realised, she'd stay nude - no clothes lay in the cornucopia.