Beneath the Crystal Sky

by laptop246

Fawn Dogwood is 16. She lives in District 7. She is part of a prosperous scouting troop. She has two little sisters. She is learning a trade. She is being courted. She was never meant to be Reaped. "Scout. Sister. Performer. Tribute. What am I, now? Staring into my own brown eyes, I find that I can't tell anymore." High quality. Works very closely with the original series.

11. II HOMESICKNESS

PART II. PREPARING.
CHAPTER 11. HOMESICKNESS.

So sorry, guys. This one is coming out wayy later than planned. I've just been really super busy. But that's supposedly changing now, so there can be more time for BTCS. Sorry! Late summer is just a busy time for me. Anyway... we are in autumn now. My favorite season. :) I write outside during this time. The weather is ... inspiring. As is the multitude of wind. But you'll see my feelings about wind in Fawn later ... we share that.

Well, Fawn actually thinks about home a bit in this chapter. She can't really ignore the feeling of homesickness anymore, hence the chapter title.

Oh, the parts! Part I Beginning was only five chapters, I think. Part II Preparing is going to continue until we enter the Games. Anyway, sorry if that confused anyone - I've been meaning to elaborate upon that, but have forgotten.

~BTCS~

The rooftop is cool where I sit amongst the perfectly aligned and manicured trees. I purse my lips as my eyes water. Home ... pine needles, the sharp tang of snow, the wind whistling through the trees... my heart pounds with prolonged homesickness, and, for the first time since I have been reaped, I allow myself to wonder about home. What are Creta and Aria doing right now? Are they curled together on their pallet, singing the lullaby to each other, since I cannot? Does my mother sleep with them, listening to the whispered melody, hardly able to breathe with worry for me?

What does the troop think? Do they also lay away, silent in the night? Do they think of me, willing me to remember how to kill, as they stare at the screens in Redwood's square?

River .. oh, River. Does he still believe that I can win, now that he has seen Luster Diamond disarming his trainer with a flick of his wrist? Has he seen how Shyne Luxor can hit the target every time from yards away with any weapon you give her? I remember, years ago, when a girl was Reaped. Her betrothal didn't leave the square, falling asleep where he stood, until she died in the bloodbath. So many of us die in the bloodbath. My breath quickens. Willow Hardwood, my predecessor, died in the bloodbath. Is this too, my fate?

I don't realize that I'm crying, a soft, sad melody drifting through my brain, until I hear a slight cough. Startled, I jump up, blinking rapidly to face whoever confronted me. The person before me is short, with rusty red hair that is lifted slightly by the wind. I place him immediately as Cabel Atom, from District 5. He is the young boy that tried to catch my eye in the elevator this morning.

My tears stop immediately, and I stand so that I tower a good foot over his head. "What do you want?" My voice isn't kind, but it's not harsh, either. I don't want to end up with this boy following me. I can't afford to get close to any other people.

Cabel's hazel eyes are wide. "Y-you," he stammers. "you ... you're scared too." I blink at him, shocked for a moment. He wasn't taunting my fear like a Career tribute would, but recognizing it as his own. "I ... I saw you crying," the boy stammers. "I - I cry. In b-bed."

I feel cautious all of a sudden. This boy is only fourteen. I glance at his hands, which are nearly as smooth as a Capitol citizen's. He has never had a job - he must be one of the lucky few that don't have to work young. How could he win the Hunger Games? Has he ever even went to bed hungry? "Listen, Cabel." He appears shocked that I know his name. "I'm sorry, but I can't ... I mean, I just need to be alone, okay?" He nods, but doesn't move. "I already have an alliance." I prompt him.

"Oh," he says. "So do I." My shock makes me do a double take. Who would want a young, weak, and inexperienced tribute as their ally? "It's Barley Harvester," Cabel explains to me. "from District 9." My mouth forms a small 'o' of understanding. Barley is younger than Cabel - thirteen, and, while appearing fitter than Cabel, has no chance to win the Games at all.

"That's good," I encourage the younger tribute, mainly out of habit. My mind is spinning inside of my head. That's another alliance outside of the Career pack - Cabel's alliance with Barley, Ryder Wheel's alliance with Thread Coil, and my own with Raven, Maze, and October. Are there more that I don't know about? "I need to go," I tell Cabel, and, unable to think straight, I walk away.

~~BTCS~~

Emerald smiles at me with her lavender-coated lips. I smile back, trying to conceal that I'm still shaken from my dream last night. I dreamed that I was running with my family, friends, and the other tributes through the forest, and that, one by one, we were being killed by something. I think I've had this dream before. I can't be sure, though - everything is getting mixed together.

"Today, during training, I want you to focus on what you already know, or think that you'll be good at," Blight instructs us. "I spoke with Seeder and Chaff, Maze and October's mentors, and they agreed with me. There will be another compulsory exercise - I'd imagine the hanging course is next. Raven, you've scored near the middle in all of the past exercises. I want you to keep it that way. Fawn, you've already been targeted by the Careers. You might as well push yourself and show them what you can do."

I nod, my mind flying to the knives lined up neatly against the wall on the knives station. I realize, with a sort of sick lurch from my stomach, that I am looking forward to picking them up and flinging them at the targets; to show the Gamemakers and the other tributes just how deadly I am. I push away much plate of food, sitting down the fork, and announce, "I'm done."

Emerald glances towards Blight, as though asking permission to speak. The Training Days are obviously Blight's responsibility to look over. He's doing a much better job than I would have imagined. I haven't smelled alcohol on his breath once. "Remember," Emerald tells Raven and I, "appearance is just as important as talent. If you are good at something, and can look good doing it, the Gamemakers will be impressed. It's all a big show."

Raven and I nod. Blight stands, brushing crumbs off of his jacket, and walks towards the elevator. I say a quick goodbye to Emerald and the stylists, hurrying to join Blight in the elevator. I find that it is already occupied by the tributes from District 10 - Angela Herder and Grant Farmer - and their mentor. Angela glances up, her white blonde hair flipping with her head, as I enter the elevator, and looks back down quickly. Grant, whom I noted for his bulk earlier, gives me a curt nod. Raven doesn't glance at each of them, simply staring out of the glass to the foyer below.

The elevator zooms downwards, giving a jolting halt at Floor 6. The two tributes from District 6 enter the elevator, accompanied by two mentors. The boy, his black hair drawn into a neat poneytail, keeps his expression blank as he nods to us. I remember him - Ryder Wheel, the boy allied to Thread Coil. His partner, Jet Rails, is very different. Where Ryder's features are mild, Jet's are striking. Her black hair is very straight and uniform, cut to frame her jaw perfectly. When she catches me glancing at her, black eyes narrow and glare at me until I look away.

The elevator's decent is not disturbed again. When we reach the Training Centre, Blight pats my shoulder, telling me to "remember what we talked about." I nod, and Raven avoids eye contact with either of us. As we step out of the elevator, I note that Ryder has joined Thread. After a quick scan of the cluster of tributes, I see the Careers, Cabel standing with Barley, and my own allies. Seeing that I am in no hurry, Raven leads the way

"Good morning," October greets Raven and I. I nod to my allies and continue glancing about at the other tributes. I note that Hestia Flamel, the girl from District 12 that had one of the best swimming times yesterday, is standing a distance from her ally. Have the Careers considered inviting her to their alliance? "So, Fawn," October appears to be trying for nonchalance. I glance at him, and note that he seems awfully jumpy. Did he have a nightmare last night that is still haunting him? "Tell us about ... District 7."

My eyebrows touch my hairline. "District 7?" October nods, and Maze glances at me curiously, then to her district partner with an air of concern. Surely she senses the same lethargic-ness that I do. "W-what about it?" He has taken me by surprise, and I'm not sure that I want to speak of my district. Somehow, to speak of it may make it more ... real. It may make me realize that this nightmare is ...

October shrugs, and I tear my mind from the topic. "I don't know. Something about yourself, maybe." This topic wasn't any easier. I waited for him to suggest something else. "Um," he was obviously feeling very awkward. "What's that?"

My hand flies to my temple, where the crescent moon is branded into my skin. Subconsciously, I begin to stroke it, as though it is a real and tangible thing that I can feel. The Peacekeepers marked me as trouble by branding this into my skin when I was only twelve years old - reaping age. I remember the pain that I felt, the determination that set my face into a hard mask ... Peacekeepers marked me a rebel because I was willing to die to feed those I love. "It's ..." How do I explain the troop to them? How can I describe the unspoken bond between us all? "It's the mark of my troop."

Raven nods slightly, doubtlessly having known what the mark was from the start. A small, almost delicate-appearing line forms between Maze's eyebrows. "What's a troop?"

"A group of young people who scout the forest." I take a deep breath, my hand moving from the scar to run my fingers through what Garnish calls a 'poneytail'. "There are five towns that ring the three inner towns of District 7," I explain. "the outer towns cut the lumber, and the inner three process it. I live in one of the outer, Sawdust, and Raven lives in one of the inner, Redwood." Raven nods in the edge of my vision, eyes distant. "The outer towns have to move constantly, so that District 7 remains a small, compact circle for the purposes of statistic keeping in the Capitol." It would be much harder to keep track of a large district, I add in my head bitterly, reminding myself that my words were being recorded.

"The forests of District 7 are untamed," I tell them. "The only modification that has been made to them by use of Capitol technology is the variety. Naturally, District 7 would only contain pine trees. But all of the trees of Panem have been genetically altered to survive in District 7's cold climate. Animals, predators and prey alike, roam the woods. Typically, they stay away from the traveling towns because they fear falling trees.

"It's impossible to guess what the traveling towns will find when they go to a new location. That's why the troops were formed. Since no adults can be spared, children of Reaping age are allowed to join the town's troop and scout out the wilderness. It's dangerous - with the coyotes, tracker jackers, and moose roaming wildly. Not many people are willing to risk their lives unless they have to - to earn the money. The Peacekeepers reason, if you are willing to risk your life to feed yourself, you are likely to be rebellious later in life. So they brand us with marks." My hand motions to the crescent moon again. "The marks different from troop to troop. River's troop, Mist Troop, is from Sap, and their mark is a swirling ball of mist."

A moment of silence passes as I stare in the distance, remembering my troop. "So you are part of ... Crescent Moon Troop?" Maze guesses. I nod, unable to summon any more words. "We have something similar to troops," she says. "We call them harvesting groups. October and I are in the same group. We help each other harvest a row a day. How many people are in troops? There's only three in harvesting groups - me, October, and Peach make up ours."

I smile slightly, thinking of my troop-mates. "There can be any number, theoretically. But, typically, there are eight to ten scouts in a troop. In the Crescent Moon Troop, we have eight - Lyda, Kri, Lore, Riccy, Trew, Johanna, Poy, and I." My throat clogs with emotion that I have been attempting to suppress. "We are as close as a family."

October appears sympathetic, and changes course. "It is dangerous, in the forest? Are you attacked very often?"

"Normally on the first day we scout," I admit, "we are attacked. The last trip, it was coyotes." Sensing the oncoming question, I continued, "We are given throwing knives that are kept by the Peacekeepers when we aren't scouting, to protect ourselves."

"That's how you got so good at running and climbing," Maze realizes, with a slight smile.

I study her lithe frame, and make a guess. "You climb trees to harvest fruit," I say. "That's why you're so good at climbing."

Maze nods, her eyes shining with nostalgia. "Yes, I do. I'm the smallest of the group, and I go to get the highest fruit on the smallest branches. October gets the ones in the middle, and Peach gets the ones at the very bottom." October nods in agreement to Maze's words, and I study the two. If they had not been Reaped, would there ever have been any romance between them?

This makes me think of my song - the one I had been composing during Festival Time in District 7. How content that song had made me - to think that two tributes might turn on the Capitol was joyous. Now that I am actually in the Games, however, would I dare tell others to try and rebel? Would I be willing to sacrifice what little chance I had at winning, to be rebellious in my last days?

Atala calls us together in our two half-moon circles again. She announces that the compulsory excercise for this morning is a hanging course. She gestures to the ceiling, and I see that a thin net, nearly invisible, is structured between us and the ceiling - some fifty feet from the ceiling, and 70 from the floor. As Atala describes the hand holds we will encounter upon the ceiling, I notice that Cole Miner from District 12 is flinching. I regard the boy with olive skin and dark hair with interest. Does he have a fear of heights?

The order we are to stand in is announced, with me standing by Pixel Flash and Angela Herder. The two girls do not appear unfriendly towards me. Angela offers me a small smile, which I return uneasily. Pixel nods to me, and turns so that I am staring at her long, brown hair. "Hi," Angela extends a white hand. "I'm Angela." Her white blonde hair is stark against the dark colors of the training uniforms.

"Fawn Dogwood." I take her hand and shake it, glancing around for my own allies. October and Raven stand a short distance in front of me, framed by Rye Brown, Mason Flint, Barley Harvester, and Cole Miner. Maze is near the end of the line, beside Syren and Cotton Flinch. Catching me glancing about, Syren sends me a curious look. She invited me into her alliance, and caught me shaking hands with a weak tribute from District 10 the next day. Uneasy, I let go of Angela's hand, and rebuff her attempts at conversation.

Cabel, the boy I spoke with on the rooftop, goes first. A small platform raises him to the ceiling. He is very high up, and difficult to see. I squint my hair, trying to make out facial features beneath rusty red hair. The screen that shows scores provides a close up of Cabel, so that we (tributes, trainers, and Gamemakers alike) may observe him. Cabel's face is pale, making his red hair stark against his freckled face. He glances around himself, taking a deep breath and adapting to his surroundings. His arms raise to grip the bar directly above him, the platform sinks away from his feet, and the clock begins.

I watch with interest as Cabel struggles to reach the next bar. This excersize is judged on speed as well as ease. Atala encouraged us, her gaze directed to the Careers, to do whatever flips we might be capable of while completing the course. Clearly, the Gamemakers were expecting a show.

Cabel manages to grip the second bar with his fish, and detaches his other one. For a moment, he dangles with one hand upon the bar before bringing his dangling hand to touch the gripping one in a jerking motion. He repeats this once more, and reaches for the fourth bar with more confidence. He didn't realize that the fourth bar was different. Maybe he wasn't listening very well when Atala explained. In any case, when he sweaty palms touch the smooth, slightly damp bar, his fingers slip. Again, he is hanging by one hand. I hold my breath. What will he do now?

His face shows panic. He reaches up so that he is hanging by two hands again, though it is obvious that he is shaking. Cabel reaches out to try for the bar again, but his hand slips once more, and this time, he is unable to hold himself with one arm. He drops like a rock, towards the nearly invisible net. Falling face-first, I can make out Cabel's dilated eyes as he screams in terror. Even though I know the net is there, I flinch. It seems cruel that he has to fall so long before the net tosses him back up a short distance.

Cabel's scream reaches a new pitch. Shyne lets out a high snicker, filled with contempt for the little boy. I shoot her a glare that she doesn't catch, glancing around at the other snickering Careers. Cabel finally settles onto the net, and stays curled in a ball for a moment, shocked to his very shell. Atala's voice, magnified by some means, instructs him to crawl to the edge of the net, where a platform is waiting to take him back down. Still shaking, Cabel complies, crawling like a common dog to the edge. My heart bursts in anger and pity as Shyne lets out a high giggle, and Luster chuckles loudly.

I avert my gaze as, humiliated, Cabel steps from the platform, which disappears into the floor. I remind myself that Cabel is not my ally - he's just another one of the tributes that I should keep as faceless as possible. He has to die for me to win. It is that simple.

I notice that Angela looks sick. I'm not sure why - she is obviously muscular. District 10 deals with livestock - she's probably worked with large, heavy animals since she was young. Cabel, however, from the energy district ... Pixel, before me, is less than athletic. Being from the technology district, it's not a surprising thought that she doesn't do a lot of labor. She probably spends her days before computers, trying out new technology programs. However, her face is drawn into a pondering mask, as though she is calculating the momentum she will have to have, to overcome the slippery bar. The only sign of agitation that is coming from her are the red streaks upon her arms. I glance at her, to see her scratching her scalp. A frown tugs at my lips - what a disgusting habit.

Ryder Wheel is raised to the bars when I look up. His long black hair, tied in a poneytail, gives him a stern appearance, rather than the neat one that I had observed before. I glance at Thread Coil, standing just in front of Pixel, and notice that his expression is completely cool and calm - a picture of serenity and indifference that I find impressive. His eyes, however, are trained on his ally, and I know that he is more intent upon the training than he appears.

Ryder briefly stretches his arms, cracking his knuckles, before grabbing the bar. The platform practically disappears, moving like a blur away from Ryder as the clock starts. With a jolt, he grabs the next one, his other arm snapping forward without hesitation. With a lurch, the rest of his body follows. Ryder reaches the next without problem as well. He hesitates before letting go of the bar with his right hand and wiping it on his shirt. Then he does the same with his left. After several seconds of hesitation, he reaches out and grabs the bar, his other hand following quickly, as though to make sure he wouldn't change his mind. He sings forwards, and then backwards, like an autumn leaf ready to fall from an oak tree, before reaching out blindly for the next bar and catching it by luck. He repeats this process, until he reaches the last of the slippery bars.

The next bars require speed - they are small, flimsy, and programmed to break after three seconds of holding onto them. They are also programmed to the body weight that they will be put upon them. Ryder makes it to the second, but hesitates too long, and falls when the support of the bar disappears. His face registers shock, and later disappointment, and he clenches his jaw to keep himself from screaming like Cabel did.

More snickers come from the Careers, dominantly from Mason this time. I glance away from Ryder, who is now as blank faced as Thread's as he crawls to the edge of the net, to look at the chuckling Career. He is stretching his arms, preparing to step onto the platform as Ryder is lifted down. As he is lifted into the air, he looks at the ground, apparently completely at ease with the height. He grabs the bar the moment he can, speeding through the course with speed I consider reckless. I've seen climbers better than him fall from being reckless. All the same, he breezes through the normal and the slippery bars. He's going so fast, the thin ones aren't a problem. Then, he encounters the hardest stage. Here, the bars are a variety of the past three, and the course curves up and down, side to side, even doubling over to continue the way it had come. At one point, the bars move upwards in a complete curve, so that you have to reach upwards two feet and pull yourself through the bars to continue.

Mason does fine with the curves and bumps. It isn't until he reaches a bar that he didn't realize was slippery that he messes up. His balance shifts, and he looses his grip with his right hand. Before he can get his hand back up, his left slips as well, and he plummets to the net.

I can't hide a smirk as I see Mason's furious face. He grunts as he hits the net, and is forced to crawl to the ending, just like Cabel and Ryder. The other Careers appear widely annoyed by Mason's less-than-perfect performance. Cabel and Ryder appear to be gladdened by it, though, but their expressions change as Mason stands beside them, glaring at them both fearsomely. Ryder quickly puts a natural mask on, but I think that Cabel might melt into the ground, his obvious fear is so great. A pang resounds through me, and protectiveness for Cabel again runs through me, but I push it back once more, reminding myself how silly it is.

Raven is already at the top of the room, hesitating before grabing the first bar, when I look up. I send a silent prayer to our ancestors in the stars. If Raven can do well in this... maybe things will be different for him. Maybe he'll finally be able to have confidence, and the Gamemakers might actually give him a good training score. I hold my breath as he wipes his hands and reaches for the bar.

He takes the course slow. The first normal bars he does mechanically, trying to copy Mason's fluid movement, and not Ryder's and Cabel's. It is obvious that he does not climb, but he has learned from the past three failures. He takes his time before going on, letting himself stop moving on the three slippery bars. Not until he moves onto the smaller bars does he rush, but he pauses again when done with them, always looking at his next bar before moving. His speed is dismal, but he makes it further than Mason - all the way to the part where he has to reach through the bars. He slips in the process, and falls to the net.

Raven appears disappointed as he crawls to the platform, but I am exhilerated. He has the best score yet - and he has scored above a Career! I share a beam with October and Maze, ignoring the glares that the Careers, particularly Mason, are sending Raven. I glance up at the Gamemakers to them considering Raven for the first time - wondering what potential he has, guessing at a higher training score than they had planned.

As Raven nears the ground again, I send him a genuine smile, which he returns, although appearing frazzled from his fall. He stands a good distance away from Mason, closer to Cabel, who looks towards my district partner with that wide-eyed, innocent expression. Raven glances at him, and the quickly glances away, edging from the other tribute. Like me, he doesn't want to get close to someone who will doubtlessly die so quickly.

Rye Brown, the hostile girl from District 9, is next. Her dark face is set as she grabs the bar. She manages well - moving decisively, and quickly. She ends up making it farther than Raven, messing up when she encountered a sharp turn on a wet bar. Not a bad preformance - actually, it is the best yet. I note dryly as Rye comes down that she is a force not to be reckoned with.

The male tribute of District 12, Cole Miner, goes up next. He is one of the boys that I have noted for looking underfed, but strong. He is also the boy that looked terrified as Atala described the ropes course. His hands are clenched into fists as he steps onto the rail-less platform, and the screen shows how his eyes grow larger the farther up he goes. When the platform stops smoothly, he gulps, looks down, and then quickly back up. Almost as though subconsciously, Cole moves his hands to grip the bar.

When the platform slides away, he cannot suppress a shrill squeal of alarm. Eyes closed tight, he grips the bar tightly for several long moments. Then, he opens his eyes slowly to fix them on the next bar. His hand slides forward, and Cole glances down. I can tell by the look on his face as he looks downward that he cannot make it farther. He slips, and falls. The pure fear in his eyes is so heartbreaking, I have to look away from it. As the platform lowers him to the ground, I glance over. The 17 year old boy is near tears with relief to see the solid ground.

October is up next. I glance up at the scoreboard to memorize the scores. Rye is first, with Raven behind her. Mason is next, and then Ryder and Cabel. Cole has the least. October's face is shining with confidence, and his expression doesn't weaken in the slightest as the platform lifts him up. He doesn't hesitate, grabbing the bar immediately and swinging through the first few with ease. He hesitates a split second before the slippery bars, before moving past them with ease as well. The thin ones pose no harm to him, either.

I notice the blank mask that October's face has made as he swings through the curves and bumps with ease, not hesitating before any of the bars and making good times. His form shows practice and agility. When he reaches the part where he has to reach through the bars, he hesitates, making himself swing back and forth, building momentum. Then, so fast that I almost miss it, he swings his feet to touch the bar ahead of him, following through with his torso and arms, and gripping the bar that was far above his head seconds before.

My mouth snaps open. We never did anything like that in District 7. I watch October carefully. He is now situated backwards, and I wait for him to turn himself around. However, he simply turns his head sideways and finishes the course backwards, with just as much ease as he did the beginning. The moment his feet touch the platform and his hands leave the bars, he is lifted down as the first tribute to finish the course.

My heart still pounding for worry that he would fall, I beam shakily at October's approaching form, and shake my head slightly. I'm not sure that I can score higher than he did. I watch as October joins Raven humbly, as Raven obviously congratulates October on his performance. I glance at Maze, catching her excited look. She is obviously very eager to do the course. I wonder if climbing is one of the things that reminds her of home. If she were to close her eyes, would she see trees filled with fruit instead of cool, grey metal bars?

I shake my head slightly to clear it. Barley Harvester, the young ally to Cabel Atom, is now climbing. He slips at the first slippery bar, ranking slightly below his ally. Thread Coil makes it just farther than his ally, Ryder Wheel. Pixel Flash, who still stands in front of me, steps onto the platform. Her face is completely blank as she grabs the bar a few seconds later, high above me. I study her as she makes her way through the first few bars jerkily, but with a determination that I can't help but admire. She makes it to the part where the turns begin, and then slips. I glance at the screen as her picture appears just after Mason's.

It's my turn. I step onto the platform quickly, and watch the ground as it lifts me up. When it stops, I take a few moments to stretch out my arms and observe my surroundings. The bars are roughly a foot and a half apart, though that changes as one progresses. The netting, from this view, is nonexistent, and it appears that if one fell, they would hit the ground. I grin to myself, thinking of how I fell during Branchball on purpose, and how the troop caught me. I remember all of the years I have spent flying through the trees, using branches far less stable and uniform than these. Confidence overflowing, I reach up and grab the bar.

The platform disappears. It's an unnerving feeling - to have the support under your feet gone suddenly. I swallow whatever saliva was left in my mouth and clench my teeth in concentration, rearranging my hands upon the bar. I swing forward, grabbing the next bar and pulling my body through the movement like water. The next is just as simple. The slippery bars are cool under my fingers - like branches covered in ice. The thin bars bear resemblance to the branches at the tops of trees.

The movements are natural, and become subconscious. I realize that I am smiling as I sing through the course. Hanging reminds me of home, and, unbidden, the smell of pine needles comes to my nose. I can almost hear mockingjays singing, branches rustling, the troop laughing far below me...

I reach through the bars without hesitation and bring myself to the next level. I don't attempt any crazy acrobatic moves like October did. I simply swing through the course with the ease of a practiced member of a District 7 scouting troop. When reaching the end, I hesitate before touching my feet to the platform. As it begins to lower me, I do something spontaneous, on a whim.

I launch myself off of the plate, towards where I know the net much be, my arms spread open to catch the wind. I scream in pure exhilaration, beaming as the ground rushes closer. The wind tears through me, whipping my hair behind me, and whistling in my ears. For a moment, I am completely free - like a bird in the sky, I could launch up and disappear at any given moment. I could go anywhere I want just because I want to.

Just as the fuzzy blurs that are people on the ground begin to come into focus, I feel the net. It pushes me back up for about five meters, and I whoop in excitement. When I fall back down again, I stay still for a moment, breathing shallowly, my heart pounding.

I beam as I get onto my hands and knees, crawling towards where the platform is waiting for me. When I stand upon the hard surface, my legs are shaking. As I near the ground, I notice the other tribute's expressions. October appears amused by my flight, shaking his head at me. Maze looks jealous, and I wonder if she will attempt it as well. Raven, however, appears absolutely terrified for me. The Careers' reactions range from shock to approval. Cole Miner looks ready to be sick. Most of the other tributes just appear surprised, or even awed.

I glance up at the scoreboard as I join October and Raven. I am second, behind October, and before Rye. I beam at my allies as I walk up, a skip to my step that I'm not sure I have shown them before. October shakes his head at me again. "Did you have fun?" he asks, his tone teasingly patronizing.

"Yes," I beam at him, reliving the moment in my mind. I glance up at the course as Angela Herder is lifted up. I wonder if I will be allowed to do it again during free training time...

"I cannot even believe you just did that," Raven's voice is still containing a bit of shock. I return my gaze to him, meeting his terrified eyes. "What if you had missed the net - you'd have fallen right on the floor, and ..." he trails off, meaning implied.

I shrug. "I'd be dead, I guess. But I'll probably be dead in a few weeks, so what's the harm in having some fun?" Raven flinches at the meaning of my words, and the casual tone in which they are delivered, but falls silent.

With a heavy sigh, I watch as Angela falls on the thin bars, placing herself behind Ryder Wheel. Luster Diamond goes up next, and manages to complete the course. His time and ease were not as great as mine or October's, and so he places himself behind me. Appearing quite satisfied with his production, he gives October and I a curt nod and stands beside Mason.

Jet Rails goes after Luster. She gets farther than Raven, and I shoot my ally a placating look as he is pushed farther down the list of tributes. He waves it off, no longer appearing quite as angry with me. Cotton Flinch falls immediately, becoming the last person. Cole looks cheered by this, but Cotton is near tears herself as she crawls to the platform. I try to ignore the sniggering of the Careers, knowing that I will only do something foolish.

Maze steps up to the platform, her sense of excitement still evident on her face. She goes through the initial bars with such speed that she is a blur. I can tell immediately what October meant about her being a better climber than her. It is immediately obvious. After clearing the thin bars, she swings herself on top of the bars like October did. Like a spider, she climbs atop the bars until she can reach the second set. Then, she flips and spins her way through the rest of the course, finishing with a flip perfectly oriented to land her on the platform.

October catches my eye, beaming, as Maze's name appears first upon the list. "I told you," he whispers, watching Maze approach us. "She's absolutely amazing."

"What did you think?" Maze asks as she joins us.

I shake my head. "You out-showed me, that's for sure."

"I'm sorry." She doesn't mean it. It's good that I don't want an apology. I shake it off, beaming at her.

Raven smiles at her. "You were amazing," he tells her sincerely.

Maze smiles back, obviously still exhilarated. "I feel amazing," she tells us. After a moment's pause, she adds, "You all did really well too. Raven, you're a really fast learner!" Raven smiles bashfully in the face of praise.

Shaking my head, I gesture towards the ceiling, where Syren is flipping her way through the course. Unlike October, Maze, and I, there is obvious strain in her movements, and when she finishes, she is panting heavily. I turn to the screen, holding my breath. Did she score above me? Her name appears just below mine, and I let out a sigh of relief. Looking disappointed, Syren gives me a nod, which I return, uneasy with all the attention I was getting from the Careers. When I turn down entrance to their alliance, how will they act? I glance away from where Syren stands with Mason and Luster quickly.

Grant Farmer's strength gets him through a fair amount of the course, scoring before Jet. Geniss Mount, whose strength is also great, goes next. She finishes the course, and scores below Luster. Appearing discouraged by her score, she joins the Careers. Scarlett Wires, the girl I have noticed for being tricky, manages to make it almost as far as Raven, who looks relieved that another person has not been placed above him.

Tide Playa manages the course well, finishing just after his district partner. Hestia Flamel, the gril from District 12 that can swim well, makes it just farther than Thread, to the beginning of the turns. Chip Drive falls after confronting the slippery bars. Shyne finishes the course in great speed - faster than I did. However, her agility wasn't great, and she places below Syren.

As Atala calls us back to our half moons, it is hard not to notice the Gamemaker's eyes upon me. What score are they considering giving me? They range from 1 to 12, with 12 being the highest and impossible to achieve. Most tributes will get 3-5. As the Gamemakers study me, I gulp and pray that I will be awarded an 8 or a 9.

~~~BTCS~~~

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