"So no tunnel," he repeated, and while Holiday spoke hushed and rushed, he did the opposite. Because she could go now, whenever she wanted, because the deal they had struck up had dissolved with the finding of no food. He wasn't entirely sure she knew that, though, so he pressed. "Which is just dandy, because I couldn't crawl through it, anyway."

And he crept forward until he was peering back out the mouth of the Cornucopia and the sight of the jungle again made his heart sink. Seconds inside a shelter, one so terrible as this, where it seemed everyone wanted to get to, had made him soft. He sucks in a breath and takes off, though, straight out the way he had come in. A sprint to the trees, and he's gasping for breath by the time he reaches them and the safety they were supposed to offer. Vision swimming, he searches for Holiday behind him.