Note; I do not own any part of the Hunger Games and all characters are purely fictional, so please do not consider this as a part of infringement or copyright, thank you! All reviews are welcome, and sorry if I am not entirely accurate in all aspects, so thanks for reading, and please review! You, the audience, can help me and tell me if I should continue this chapter.(plus if there are any typos a notice would be appreciated! Thanks and enjoy the story!

Clove peered down the steep incline, nervous about the trip down. She never truly did like heights. But, unfortunately, it was part of her training for the upcoming 74th anniversary of the Hunger Games. She sighed and leaned back on the near outcropping of rocks, wondering when Cato and the other trainees would show up. She'd been there for half an hour, in the middle of the forestry surrounding the third point mark for the exercise that her trainer was putting her through. The point was to exercise stamina by setting an endurance pace along the 18 mile trek and eventually meet up with other trainees at each marked point. The trek had not been at all comfortable with what she was used to; precise exercising that developed her weapons abilities in a small air-conditioned facility that now hardly prepared her for the dry and arid outdoors that contained the towering mountains which she now had to hike. Clove felt that this was a high disappointment for her expectations of normalcy, let alone she hardly thought it was worth her time. She felt distracted and knew that she was ahead of her fellow trainees. If anything was the questionable cause of distraction, it would have definitely been the anxiousness that continually ate at her for the week leading up to the choosing of the tributes. That would be the week for the final test of the trainees; a test not very looked forward to by her peers and even by herself. A rustle in one of the trees to her left caught her attention, and she quickly turned around with her primary throwing knife appearing in her right hand. The knife was shaking, from an un-quieted fear that resounded in her heartbeat. Her eyes swiveled around, looking for the designated sound that had distracted her. Another rustle sounded off, and Clove quickly caught the sound and peered up into the towering pine tree 3 rows next to her to meet Cato's eyes, which were staring back with a small glint of a smile. Clove sighed again and quickly relaxed; those calming eyes had suppressed many surprises, including the fear of one of the "persuasive automatons", which were automatic machinery weapons that continually tested the tribute trainees for awareness with slight shocks shot from tiny hidden metal canisters. The automatons were potentially dangerous, and even the slightest touch from one of the shock blasts could cause a great amount of pain in the hit area. So, generally, to be hit by a shock blast was not the most favorable or pleasurable experience that any person would want to endure.

So much has changed about him she thought as she watched him slowly climb down the tree. He pretends to trust everyone, and yet I find him hiding among the trees from me like a shy tribute from District 11, and yet I know better. Clove spun around and faced the incline again while waiting for him to climb down the tree and approach her. She contemplated jumping off the incline to the flat ridge below. If he was willing to hide from her, then why should she make it easy for him to find her? Clover quickly jumped down the incline while sliding down its pebble ridden surface. The top of her foot caught on a small rock and she tumbled down the rest of the incline; narrowly missing several jagged rocks and eventually landing on the flat ground below with a dull thud. Where to hide? She thought while searching for Cato. Another dull thud sounded next to her, and her cheeks flushed as she scrambled to her feet to meet the incredulous stare thatCato gave her. Another bunch of bushes rustled to her right as the three other trainees rose from their well-concealed hiding places. "Well, trying to run away now were we?" he said with an irritated expression. She circled around, looking for an escape route. There had to be a way out. Even though Cato was a friend, there was nothing stopping him from "stalling" her on her trek. The Capitol's officials in District 2 choose their tributes by the final test and the previous experiments and tests that had occurred previously in the training program. The determinant of whether a person passed the final test was focused on the tribute trainee's ranking, and if you were in the top 2 ranking positions of each gender then you passed. The movement of one of the other tribute trainee's, nick-named Boule, caught Clove's attention. "There is no point in hurting Clove, Cato." The light-skinned boy said. "She's not of the same gender; it would not help to stall her if it doesn't affect our rankings." Cato glared at Boule, obviously not wanting to relent on his frustration from competition. The familiar whirr of an automaton sent the group into a hurried dive as a round of pressurized shock blasts flew above their heads and ended up grazing Boule's head, as he had the slowest reactions out of the group and unfortunately was still partially in the path of the shock blasts. Cato stared at Clove as Boule howled with pain and writhed on the ground.

I forgot how much he can be so competitive Clove thought. Those eyes are mischievous; and you can never really tell what his motives are for what he does.

Cato seemed to be thinking about his options at the moment, and Clove slightly shook at the look that he was giving her. The look described him for what he was; a competitor bred for the unhealthy sake of killing others for order. But, the look also had something else in it. Was it fear that Clove saw? Or was it anger at something other than the situation at hand? After quick glances from everyone at the automaton, which seemed at peace now, the entire group warily stood as they had been before and Boule had fully recuperated from his unfortunate experience. Clove considered what Cato was thinking, and she wanted to know what it was before he made a move that could endanger her. Before Clove could really think about what Cato was feeling, she suddenly became aware of her silent and awkward surroundings. Everyone was staring at her, obviously for some apparent reason, yet she could not figure out what sane reason it could be for. "Clove, he asked you a question" demanded Arrow, another trainee. The group of four still stared at Clove, who seemed to just shrink in her footsteps at the glowering looks each trainee gave her. "And what, per-say, would this important question be?" Clove murmured sarcastically. "One that I should actually listen too? Or one that you are just using for a bullying threat that everyone knows you can never actually enforce?" she said a little more boldly. In less than a second she was lifted two inches off the ground by her collar by very strong hands, now facing a growling Cato nose-to-nose.

So much anger in those eyes Clove thought curiously. For what purpose? If anything I should be the one that is mad at Cato, not the other way around.

Clove thought about who Cato really was and what he was doing. He had never been this forceful before, yet alone threatening to her, although they had not particularly been the best of friends. She looked again into those eyes deeply engraved with the hatred for everything that stood for who he truly was. His usual joking and candid mood turned menacing after he cleared his throat and caught the attention of the others. Clove's face turned ashen grey when his lurid voice slowly dripped out each word with pure hatred with the sentence that poured out of his tight-lipped mouth.

"I said, Clove, why should we leave you alive?"