I push my way through the crowd, hoping to find my little brother, Marvin.
"Marvin!" I call out, hoping to see his messy mane of unruly raven hair somewhere. I have no luck.
"Clove!" I hear a tiny voice shout. I push my way through to try to get to him. I may only be ten years old, but I am very strong. And besides, no one hurts my little six year old brother other than me.
"Marvin!" I yell. I can't see him anywhere. I'm just starting to grow desperate when I hear a voice behind me.
"Are you Clover?" A blond boy asks. He looks a bit older than me but he's very strong and tall. He's holding my little brother by the scruff of his neck. I glare at him.
"Put him down!" I yell. He shrugs.
"Fine, Fine, Clover," He mutters, dropping my brother.
"Clove!" Marvin yells, hugging me. I hug him back before looking back at the older boy.
"How did you find him?" I demand. He rolls his eyes.
"Don't be so precious, Clover," He pokes his tongue out at me, "I found him wondering around. He told me your name - Clover, or Clover. Whichever. I don't really actually care that much - and what you looked like, so I decided to bring him to you,"
"Thank you," I mumble, making sure he doesn't go near Marvin again.
"Anyway, I'm Cato, Nice to meet you," He grabs my hand and shakes it roughly.
"You already know who I am." I grumble, "But do call me Clove and not my annoying nickname,"
"Alright then, Clover," He smirks. I groan. Boy, is he annoying.
"I expect our fathers should be here soon," I tell him, holding in my annoyance, "I can hear the train,"
"Great. So can I," He informs me. And we talk about the games, the reapings, the trainings as we wait. And for once I don't try to kill him or hurt him like I would any other boy. I usually do that for practice, even though it's not in my nature to be violent. And for some strange reason, I like it.
