The terrain was uneven. So much so that even the Creature, who was accustomed to traversing mountains and glaciers, couldn't keep an even footing for the entire time. The last mound was steeper than anticipated on the way down, and as he leapt over, his foot landed on a loose piece of rubble, which slipped, causing him to slide and stumble somewhat before he caught his balance, though it was still fast going toward the end.

That's when he caught sight of the figure in the shadows. Standing, watching. There was a faint glint of light off of a weapon.

The tributes he'd met thus far had been more interested in talking than fighting, but there was no reason to suspect that all of them would be, especially when a weapon was already drawn. The Creature reached for his own, a bit of broken bone from one of the skeletons upstairs, as long as his forearm jagged and sharp at one end.

He slid to the bottom of the hill, crouching to slow himself down.