Adonys Canissum spat on the polished footwear of the looming figure standing before him. Peasants. Mere peasants. That was all he we was; what they all were. Silly, idiotic children from the pittance of District 12 that believed that they could order the Capitol on a whim.

They were wrong.

Adonys steeled himself. They were savages, the lot of them, and he had to be ready for a blow – but he could take it. A strong boy – man, rather – of 18 years, with the most esteemed of all Panem as his father's brother, leaving the Canissum unit exceedingly rich indeed.

He could not be touched, Adonys had been assured of it, yet the hard set of the man's face in front of him told him otherwise; the urge to cower threatening to envelop him.

But if it were a strike that was awaited, one would wait infinitely, because the male standing over the Capitol boy said merely, "Delly, please clean my boots." And with that, he turned away.

Adonys exhaled, for he had been sure there would be some kind of reaction. But there was none. The man's face had remained placid and his expression unchanging.

He should have known. The man he had disobeyed was insane; a madman.

The girl his leader even madder.

Adonys knew her. Who didn't? She was a girl with the heat surrounding her, the girl with the sullen look on her face, the girl who disapproved of Avoxes, the girl who was out in the woods when a former redheaded Avox had been captured. Confidential information, his uncle had called it. Don't tell anyone.

An amicable man, his father's brother. Rather effeminate. Took fancy in items that glittered and coloured hair. Privately, Adonys had admired his uncle for it, for the charisma he showed on stage; but after listening to his father rant and rave about his distaste for the style, Adonys had judged it wise to keep this opinion to himself.

It was these thoughts that Adonys used in a feeble attempt to distract himself from what was happening in his reality. Whilst the rest of the train they travelled on was rickety, wooden, rotten and falling apart, it appeared there was at least one point they had made an investment on: control.

Once again he made an attempt to free his ankles and wrists.

In a flash a face was an inch away from his. "Did I say you could move?"

Adonys narrowed his eyes at the face directly in front of him. He was met with a blow and a subsequent click of the nose, then dribble of blood into his mouth.

"Caesar Flickerman is your uncle."

Adonys sniffed.

"Are you proud?"

Silence.

"Not talking? I anticipated it. Which is why I brought along some entertainment."

Adonys' mind ripped a memory from its depths.

Snow. Touching him here, there. Places he didn't want to be touched.

The voice from the present bellowed out a laugh. It sounded a laugh for an old man. "Don't flatter yourself." He paused. "No… here's a taste of the past."

"You're Gale Hawthorne."

"What?" His mask was lifted to reveal bewilderment, but swiftly replaced once more.

"And what about Katniss Everdeen?" Adonys sneered. "She deserted you."

Hawthorne's clenched fist connected with the boy's mouth. "She did not!"

"Where is she now? You're her cousin after all."

Grinding of teeth.

"Family don't desert each other, right? If I can call you two that." He smiled crookedly, drowning in his own blood.

There was silence for a few seconds, the person entering the room so quiet that Adonys did not notice her until Hawthorne dismissed her.

"Thank you, Delly."

The girl from earlier nodded and promptly left.

"I remember this old thing." Hawthorne ran his finger up the leather that was stained with darker remnants of its former days. "Surprised they kept it." He paused. "You recognise it?"

Thread.

"Thought so."

Despicable man.

"You know what it's used for?"

Transferred to District 12.

"Because I do."

Hawthorne's face lowered to his, and for a split second Adonys wondered whether he might truly try something.

But instead the lips moved to the boy's ear and whispered, so softly.

"Punishment."