It's late, the night before the Reaping, and this year, just like every year, she can't sleep.

Tonight's a new moon, so her chances of being nabbed for excursions after curfew by an overzealous Peacekeeper are slim to nonexistent. She slowly, quietly makes her way through the forestry apprentices' dormitory, headed for the exit door.

--and opens it to bright lights and a crowd of unfamiliar faces.

"Aw, hell," Johanna Mason mutters, and puts her hands into the air.