Life was once hibernating in the Wintry Forest but now that the spruce, firs and pines have shaken their snowy blankets, everything feels so alive. Footprints are now left behind on the saturated earth at the base of the now Sprawling Forest. The most popular place of the forest, the fire watch tower, smoulders above the tree tops. Like many areas of the arena, it has fallen victim to a lightning strike. Any treasures it once held are now inaccessible. This place was once considered a placid area but something has awoken within it. Something that is always watching. Perhaps the chirps of birds will settle an uneasy tribute that treads in the mud. But what just made that tree branch snap behind you?

A change of season is not enough to change a heart, at least not the heart of these woods. The lonesome, limbless trees stretch up into oblivion still, charred bark, scarce vegetation on the ground. The snow is gone, but the ashes remain. Tributes can turn to see a trail of their own footsteps trailing behind them, hoping against hope they're the only tracks they see. The forest may be healing, but it is far from healed. It'll need more blood before it can truly be restored to its previous power. Be wary as you walk among its hallowed stumps and withered leafless tops: you may be safe during the day, but at night there remains a familiar, haunting sound of cackling in the distance.

A rotten ‘BEWARE’ sign lies upside down on the ground of The Mine’s entrance. Following the thawing and earlier collapses, the mine’s exit is now completely inaccessible. Snow and ice has melted enough to flood most of the tunnels. Tributes may still shelter here, if they must, but they should wear wellington boots as the wooden panelled floors now splash underfoot with every step. All of the once flickering oil lamps are now smashed, the glass shards float in the puddles. Natural light floods through the cracks up above but tributes should tread lightly if they choose to venture back down here. The Mine’s winged residents have not been evicted and they’re not very happy about the trespassers that have damaged their home. The warning sign may have fallen but tributes, BEWARE!

Collapsed ruination. What were once proud snow-capped mountains are now reduced to boulder-sized rubble. Unsteady rock balances precariously upon unsteady rock as far as the eye can see, chokeheld between the lurking trees in the distance and the sprawling, open water. Loose pebbles scatter like marbles, like a stone version of shattered glass, forcing tributes to be woefully aware of each careful step they take in this area. Collapses are frequent, potentially dropping tributes all the way down to the mines below them if their every movement is not anything less than perfectly calculated. On the far side, the risen waterline slaps and froths right up to the shore's rocky edge. A sea well-fed by the snow that once was worn as a crown atop these sad, sad remnants.