He stared, eyes calculating, at the girl in front of him. He didn't take notice to her appearance, just the weapon in her hand. A knife. She was a close range fighter, which meant she had the advantage. For a split second they were still, before she launched at him. Running lightning quick, he turned and ran to the opposite side of the clearing, hoping his speed was faster than her's and he could make an escape. Unfortunately for him she caught up to him with ease, and tackled him to the ground. The last thing he saw was the halo of dirty blonde hair and brown eyes of a devil before she sunk her knife into his back. As he faded off, he admired this girl, for the stone cold resolve she had in her eyes as the light drained out of his. He knew this was bound to happen. When you were chosen for the Hunger Games, you died. There was no hope. You would die, no matter what. And at that moment, he knew he would never see life again.

Fang was just a normal boy, from a normal family, with two younger sisters and a mother. He resided on the Capital owned ranch his family worked on in District 10, the livestock district. He was nothing out of the ordinary, dark haired, tall and skinny, just as most other 17 year old boys where he lived. His sisters, of the ages 6 and 4, were the same, skinny from the sparse food supply, and light complexions with hair and eyes the color of coal.

He was just a farm boy. Take care of the animals, feed the family, get by. That was his job. He was the man of the house. His father had died in an unfortunate accident, one day about 4 years ago he was shoe-ing a horse and got distracted, enough for the horse to get irritated and kick back, sending his hoof right into his father's skull, fracturing and killing him instantly. Fang was there when it happened, he had been tending to the sheep. He remembered every gruesome second, and the image would haunt him forever. It had happened when his mother was still pregnant with his smallest sister, so both of the girls were really to young to understand what had happened. Hell, one of them hadn't even been born yet. But Fang remembered, and he felt a bit responsible. He was there, he should have been able to prevent it. He didn't, though, and when his mother had found out, she had blamed him also.

She now made him do all of the work, guilting him into taking care of them, acting like it was his fault all the time. Every misfortune that fell on them was his fault. Ever since then.

It wasn't like he minded taking care of them. He loved his sisters. And he owed it to his mother, being as she gave birth to him and she was so frail now. After their father died she kind of just wasted away, her mind slipping bit by bit. She barely left the house anymore, and whenever she was around him for more than a few minutes, she would break down and get either sad or angry and tell him to leave.

Fang cared for them anyway, and always got enough food on the table. Lately though, he was getting a little skinny, not from lack of food, but the stress of the Hunger Games arriving soon. Only two days left until the Reaping, and Fang wasn't worried much for his family, being as his sisters were to young to be picked, as was his mother too old. He did worry quite a bit for himself though, he had taken tessera out every year, and his name was in the giant glass bowl 37 times this year. He knew that if he was called on, his family wouldn't make it even a month. His sisters too young, his mother too frail, he had set up a plan with another family in his district, that if he had been chosen then they would take his sisters and mother in.

Trying to forget about such despairing topics, he threw a bucket of slop to the pigs, and went to brush his horse. Once you became 14 in his district, you were awarded a horse that you could do with what you pleased. You could train it, or kill it for food when old enough, or sell it. It was one of the few perks of living in the livestock district. His mother had sold both his father's horse and hers. She hated the animals, and only just barely accepted him having one. They had three others that were Capital property, that were for breading. They had to care for them, but could not ride them or anything, just take care of the necessities and make sure the pregnancy and birthing go well. Horses were his favorite animal, actually. Despite what happened to his father, before his death the man had loved horses, and taught Fang everything he knew about them. He taught him that they should be loved and cared for, and are the kind of companion that you should never let go; the faithful, unjudging kind.

"Hey there, beautiful girl," he whispered, entering his horse's stall with a brush and a carrot, a special treat. Vegetables were extremely hard to come by in his district, but his neighbor, a nice old lady who bought his spare chicken eggs, grew them in a little plot of land by her house in secret. It was not grade A quality, a given, but it was good enough for his horse to take and munch on happily.

"You know girl, that carrot is going to go straight to your thighs. I think you need to run more, you're getting a little chunky," he told her, patting her side and ran the brush down neck. She gave a little snort in response. He chuckled, and brushed her in relative silence after that, and they enjoyed each others company.

He stretched the task out as long as he dared, before sighing and staring to put everything away. He needed to prepare dinner for his family, and the sun was already setting. His horse snapped at his pants with her midnight black snout as he left her stall, and he swatted at her.

"Down, girl! I need to go make dinner. No need to be such a drama queen. I'll be back in the morning," he scolded. She always got like this when he tried to leave, being as he was the only human she really liked. She was a sassy little thing, and wouldn't put up with his sisters or mother. Other ranchers couldn't even get near her without her throwing a fit. She only wanted him, and wanted him all the time. She was a character all right, the opposite of him. She was loud and high strung, he was quiet and did as he was told. She let out an unhappy neigh, and stopped her feet.

"Oh, quit it, you're fine!" he said, and stalked out of the barn, closing the door behind him and locking it. It wasn't as if anyone would steal his animals, stealing was a level one offense in Panem. He was worried about one of the smarter animals getting out of their pens and escaping. They've had a few escape artists, and after losing one once, he was sure to take extra precautions.

Walking up the dirt road to his little hose/cottage area, he entered the quaint building and took off his beaten leather jacket and placed it on a old wooden chair in the makeshift dinning/kitchen area. The jacket was special to him, it was his father's before, and it was one of those rare things his father owned and cherished. Leather was rare for people who weren't wealthy, and his father told him one time that he got it from a business man from the Capital who had traded him for a couple cow hides.

"Brother! Brother!"

"Bwother, bwother!"
His two sisters came running at him, greeting him the the customary hug-tackle they always do. He gave them both a squeeze at the same time, before breaking their hold and moving to the kitchen.

"You guys hungry?" He asked, smiling. His mother sat at the small dining table, staring at the scratched oak of the surface. She didn't greet him or even look up, and didn't answer when he asked. This was normal, however. It was better than her blowing up at him. She had refrained from doing it as much in front of the girls, but after witnessing it as much as they did, it seemed both the girls didn't want much to do with her. She yelled at their big brother, their savior, their most favorite person. Fang told them that she was sick and they needed to help her get better, so they didn't ever really say anything against her, but they seemed to think of her as a stranger anyway. In their eyes, she wasn't their mom. Fang was their only parent.

"Yeah! We only had goat cheese and some jerky today, 'cause the milk spoiled and I still can't use the stove and mama wasn't feeling good today," his 6 year old sister said, taking the seat farthest away from her mother.

"Well, I'll cook the hamburger and we can have the rest of the cheese. I'll go into town tomorrow," he said, and started to pull the meat out of the icebox.

He set to work cooking, listening to his sister's tales of the day and nodding and smiling. The girls were the light of his day, besides his horse. He enjoyed spending time with them and listening, and they enjoyed telling. His mother only moved to pick up her food and eat, never taking her dark eyes off of the scratched oak. She had an eerie are to her, one that was unstable and fragile. The girls seemed to migrate away from here, but Fang ignored it. After dinner, he bathed his younger siblings and tucked them into the small bed they shared, across from his bed, not even two feet away. His mother had her own room that she used to share with their father, but refused to give it up after he died. So the girls and him were packed in the tiny, cramped room, but they made due.

He kissed both of their foreheads, and wished them a goodnight.

"Bwother," the youngest spoke up, "you aren't goin' away soon, wight? You come back?"

He knew she was talking about the Reaping, and his heart twinged. He couldn't promise her that he wouldn't get chosen, his name was in there 37 times. District 10 was a fairly small one, with only a population of around four hundred. There weren't a lot of teenage guys in the Reaping, and all he had to count on was that others had taken more tessera than he had. Might he say, the odds were not in his favor.

"Yeah baby girl, I'll come back," he said, with a false tone of reassurance. He got the urge to cry as she looked up at him with that glimmering trust and hope, and his older sister recognized the pain on his face, to some extent. She was mature for her age, as were they all. She had am amazing talent of understanding what people were feeling, and sometimes some of the things she said and understood were well beyond her years. He hated the moments like this, where he could see that he had failed to shelter her from the outside world. He supposed that living in the kind of world they did, there wasn't much he could do, but he did his best.

"Come on, sissy, time to go to sleep. Tomorrow we'll go and see the sheep, okay? And maybe brother will take us to town with him," she said, cuddling into the rough covers nest to her sister.

"Weally?" the 4 year old asked, and Fang smiled and nodded. It was the least he could do, and they both loved the town, being as they didn't get out much with his mother never leaving and him working all the time. His sisters had great big smiles adorn their faces as he blew out their old lamp on the small bedside table they shared, and crawled onto his own hard mattress. He bid his sisters one last goodnight, and drifted off into a fitful sleep, the Reaping and his family plaguing his mind.