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A golden horn buried in sand is not exactly a new image for those who have been paying attention to the Games in recent years, though this year the sand is already the color of blood. Upon stepping off of their plates, the tributes will realize that this sand is very loosely packed and nearly impossible to run on, but this seems to be the least of their worries; as they look on, sand is spilling onto the top of the Cornucopia, threatening to bury the lifesaving items within before the tributes have a chance to claim them.

An ever-shifting, ever-growing mass of crimson sand surrounds the Arena’s three towers. This powdery matrix is quite loosely packed, yet there is no discernible wind carrying the stagnant dust across the landscape; clouds of errant particles therefore must only signify movement of some creature — tribute or mutt — right?

Any tribute who wanders too far into this dense clump of trees will find themselves having difficulty navigating anywhere. The slender, close-together trees grab at hair and clothing and backpacks and whatever else sticks out, making running impossible for anyone not interested in putting their eye out on a protruding branch. It seems unlikely that anything would be able to track you by sight between the close trees, though the snapping twigs will make it very easy to be heard.

In the Hunger Games, forests often offer precious resources to weary tributes. Not so here. Some trauma swept through a while ago, killing almost everything in the first floor of the West Tower, and now anything that may once have been edible has long since disintegrated beyond safety. Worse yet, detritus floats in the streams, clogging and tainting the water. The entire area reeks of decay, and god forbid a tribute wander too close to a carrion-eater's dinner. There is, at least, cover, should tributes have the stomach to enclose themselves in inescapable reminders of the fate that awaits them.

Tributes not wishing to get their feet wet ought to avoid this flooded forest. Much of the water in this area is about knee-height, the bottom coated with a thick, cement-like mud that threatens to swallow tributes’ footwear — or even feet — whole. The water’s surface is coated with a green sheen of algae that manages to creep up onto anything around water-surface level. The trees in the area are likewise coated with colonies of these protests as well as lichens and mushrooms.

Tribute will be hard-pressed to find much cover in this mini-ecosystem, unless they're brave enough to duck their heads under the chilly water. Much of the water is too shallow to hide in, however, as the majority of this tower is comprised of a wet, spongy ground with soil comprised of mainly decaying vegetable matter, and doesn't exactly smell pleasant enough to invite tributes to splash around in the mire.

Like the other two towers' contents on Day Two, the Moorland offers very little in the way of shelter or camouflage, leaving the tallest tributes the most vulnerable to vigilant eyes. Luckily for those who have selected to spend their time in the moor, a thick fog hangs over the hilly shrubland. Clumsy tributes beware: it's too easy to take a nasty spill down the uneven hills, and many who do may just find themselves tumbling through a briar patch.

Ageless stories say that for agreeing to grow in rugged highlands, heather was blessed with the strength of an oak tree, the fragrance of honeysuckle, and the sweetness of roses. All of this is true of the low-lying plants here, and those who stumble across them should be grateful. In a death trap, it can be hard to remember that beauty exists; this peaceful field of low-lying purple and white flowers is an achingly poignant reminder, a souvenir of days left behind and dreams deferred. Enjoy the respite, tributes. Just remember not to get too serene...

Everything in this niche of the arena seems to be oversized: the plants seem to be much too large to be normal, with leaves that could easily be used as umbrellas should it rain anything but sand, with trees that seem to stretch on endlessly and simply disappear into the tower ceiling. When even the largest tributes look minuscule juxtaposed with the massive flora, you just have to wonder how big the creatures that reside here will be...

Tributes who enter the West Tower today are confronted with what appears to be an uninterrupted stretch of sand. This seems to suggest that sand has begun to fall inside the towers, a terrifying proposition to say the least. Savvy tributes will soon notice that the sand here is lighter than that outside, and may venture confidently inside—but nothing is ever that easy in the Games, and such tributes will eventually find themselves rewarded with trapped limbs and a slow, involuntary decline into the ground. The quicksand pools scattered throughout the tower blend into the safe sand, so step carefully...

Only the most desperate tributes would dare to drink the shallow water in this inundated plain. If the reddish sheet of algae wasn't enough to discourage drinkers, the mysterious and entrancing lights that appear as darkness falls are sure to put travelers on edge. Whatever causes those lights, good luck hiding from it; there is no cover to be seen here, which is a distinct problem when every step sinks into the earth, making escapes next to impossible. Little moves within the water, as most aquatic animals would be smothered by the dark sheet of algae. Tributes would do well to carefully consider the wisdom of going near any creature resilient enough to survive here.

An exact replica of its larger, real-world counterparts, this rainforest houses a wide array of exotic species of plants and animals. Tall, tropical trees form a canopy over the forest floor, shielding it from the world above. The humidity in the air is incredibly uncomfortable, though, and the heat is enough to make anyone pass out. Tributes, you will be able to find food and water here, if you make the right decisions; if you don’t, however, there is a very good chance that you’ll find yourself poisoned instead.

The northernmost tower of this level houses an evergreen forest, thick with pines, firs, spruces, and many other species of coniferous trees. This place is a paradise for tributes looking for a good place to remain hidden; the thick needles of these trees provide excellent means of concealment. Watch where you tread, though, because more than just tributes use this forest as a place to hide.

With an abundance of thick, leafy trees, the forest within the east tower is at first glance extremely inviting - what tribute wouldn’t want to take advantage of this abundance of firewood, plants, and shade? It certainly is a much more welcoming place than many of the other areas, but any tribute who lets his guard down too much will most likely find himself dinner for one of the many Gamemaker beasties that lurk around the towering trunks of these woods.

A hot spring seems geographically impossible inside a giant hourglass, but this is the Hunger Games, and the Gamemakers will stop at nothing to ensure the existence of unnatural anomalies to give the tributes hell. This entire tower consists of nothing but a thick sheet of rock and stone across its area, in the center of which is a bubbling pool of smoldering groundwater, nearly scalding to the touch. Perhaps you could stand to dip your hand or foot in for a few seconds at a time, but anyone with any sense at all could see that the temperature of the water is far too hot to be comfortable for your entire body. This is no place for a bath, tributes.

Once, this must have been a beautiful place, well-loved by those who maintained it. Much like the tributes themselves, however, it has been abandoned to the wild. While most of the original vines have flourished in the freedom, growing so thick that they obscure the trellises entirely, sections of them have choked and died under the relentless advance of foreign plants and animals. Even so, the vineyard remains a haven for grapes and the paws and wingbeats of those who tend to them—and judging by the occasional susurration of the leaves, which only sometimes seems to be accompanied by moving animals, neither side has any compunction about drawing tributes into their fight.

There are a few small trees scattered around the prairie, but the majority of it consists of nothing but grass and patches of wildflowers. Although this area is primarily wide open, its tall grasses may provide ample concealment for any tribute looking to hide. But stay alert, for the prairie is home to many small animals that lurk in the grass as well, and not all of them are friendly.

Dark, dank, and dreary, this cavern in the North Tower is not a place any tribute would like to end up. For one, unless you have proper light, you won’t even be able to see your hand in front of your face, let alone the vast walls of stone that set apart this massive cave from the rest of the arena. For another, this is a favorite hiding place of many beastly creatures, big and small. Stay away from this place, unless you fancy yourself their dinner.

The gemstone pit is one of the most peculiar areas ever to be included in a Hunger Games area, for it consists of nothing but a massive crater in the ground filled with thousands upon thousands of precious gems. There are a wide array of different colors, and their brilliant shine is almost blinding. How does it make you feel, tributes, to know that any one of these priceless treasures could bring in enough money to sustain your family for months, and yet you’ll probably be dead before you could even manage to sneak one back to them?

Walking into this level of the west tower is rather like venturing into a cave; it’s dark, with slabs of rock slanting up the glass tower walls, stalactites hanging from the ceiling and stalagmites pushing up from the ground. A large, clear, cool pool sits within it, full of tantalizingly drinkable water; watch where you step if you’re going in, though, because there are plenty of sharp rocks hidden beneath the surface that could slice your foot clean open if you happened to tread on them.

Even in the midst of the day, an eerie shadow falls over this place. Somehow, the Gamemakers have engineered this tower to perpetually resemble night, and it only adds to the eerie atmosphere; the chill doesn’t come from the sudden drop in temperature compared to the arena outside, nor the cold spots a few degrees colder from the surrounding areas, but instead from the realization that the neat rows of headstones inscribed with the names and districts of the fallen tributes from years past — every year past, from the start of the Hunger Games. 59 rows of 23 headstones — over a thousand in all — span the entire area, each row finished off with a statue of the victor in some graveyard pose: donning angel wings or a hooded robe, weeping, praying, holding flowers, glancing skyward or looking towards the living tributes with pity. In the very back of the cemetery, the headstones of the twenty deceased from these Games have already appeared.

Most tributes will not immediately recognize this place for what it is. The hexagonally patterned walls are interesting, but they trend more toward orange than the classic gold, perhaps tinted somehow by the red sands—or by something more sinister. A few particularly brave tributes may learn the truth by tasting the similarly-coloured globs of honey that fall from time to time, but most will not be lucky enough to get dripped on or brave enough to taste. For these, the confusion will last until the buzz that lurks in the back of their minds grows louder and louder, followed by a dark cloud approaches and—hopefully—passes them.