If you were particular about these things, the first time I'd seen her was on the train ride to the Capitol.
We were watching the recaps of the reapings when perhaps the most beautiful girl I had ever seen walked onto the stage of district two and volunteered herself. She wasn't classically gorgeous like the female from district one was, but she was the type to just stand out noticeably in a crowd. Someone you could never miss.
We were rushed out of the train and sent to the remake room for several hours to be "redone"
Tiny, Gemstone-Sized Capitol was the smallest of our cities, set in a northern crook of land between the ridges of mountains. Its president, Snow, was one of those men whom the gods love: not divine himself, but clever, the training center has a tower designed exclusively for the tributes and their teams. This will be our home until the actual games. Each district has an entire floor. You simply step onto an elevator and press the number of your district. Easy enough to remember. I've ridden the elevator a couple of times but this one is made of crystal so that you can watch everything shrink as you ascend, It's exhilarating and I'm tempted to ride again but I'm swept off to some other corridor.
I was led through the place by a servant whose name I had not caught. Perhaps he had not said it. The halls were smaller than at home, as if restrained by modesty. The walls and floors were metal, shiner than that of district 12. My feet were dark against its pallor. I had nothing with me. My few belongings were being carried to my room, I had felt a strange panic as I was parted from it. It had been my compainion for weeks of travel, a reminder of my worth. I guessed I was being led to a waiting room, where I would kneel and pour my "gratitude". But the servant stopped suddenly at a side door. I was unnerved, I walked into the waiting area and saw her, her dark wreathed hair and pink soles of her feet. That is what a tribute should be.
She was lying on her back on a wide, pillowed bench, balancing a lyre on her stomach. Idly, she plucked at it. She did not hear me enter, or she did not choose to look. This is how I first began to understand my place here. I was negligible.
I took another step forward, scuffing my feet, and her head lolled to the side to regard me. I gaped at the cold shock of her beauty, deep-stormy eyes sharp featerues. It struck from me a sudden, springing dislike. She yawned, her eyes heavy-lidded. What's your name? I ground my jaw shut and would not speak. She asked again louder: "What's your name?" My silence was excusable the first time; perhaps I had not heard her. Now it was not.
"Katniss." It was the name my father had given me I loved him but now it tasted of bitterness on my tongue. It was a plant. I waited for her to make a joke out of it, some witty jape about my disgrace. She did not. Perhaps, I thought, she is too stupid to. She rolled onto her side to face me. A stray lock of black fell into her eyes; she blew it away. "My name is Clove."
I jerked my chin up, an inch, in bare acknowledgment. We regarded each other for a moment. Then she blinked and yawned again, her mouth cracked wide as a cat's. "Welcome to the Capitol." I had been raised in fear of the peacekeepers and knew dismissal when I heard it, almost as if the servant actually answered to her he returned almost on cue to show me to my room.
This is my first chapter and their will be more to come please tell me what you think I will try to make this series as long as possible and for the sake of clairity I will have them stay in the training center longer then originally written to add more depth to the story