Joe POV:
She's sitting on her bed, her pale face buried in her palms. Silently, I sit by her side. I feel so sad for her. To have a mother who would do something like that, it must be horrible.
"I'm so sorry," I manage to croak.
She eyes me through puffy red eyes. "You don't have to be sorry."
We then sit in silence, Bryony sobbing silently, while I put my arm around her, comforting her.
Before Min saw Bryony, she was actually quite a nice girl with a cute accent. There's going to be bad blood between her and Bryony, and it pains me to see such good people becoming bad just because of something that happened in the past.
Stephan POV:
The train whistles through a tunnel, and when we emerge at the opening, we are face to face with the mighty Capitol.
Giant structures whizz by, but what strikes me is not their size, but how boring they look. They are all a shade of deep grey and black, and it's just depressing looking at them.
Gosh, get some colour in your lives, Mogs! I wish I can take a paintball gun and blast this place up with multi-coloured paint or something.
Min is pressing her small face to the mirror, her large eyes even larger with awe. I feel kind of sorry for her, in a way. My district is one of the most well-off districts, so I've seen buildings before. Min, however, has never seen such giant structures.
I stand next to her. She's so tiny and she looks really young, like she's, I dunno, ten or something.
"How old are you?" I ask her.
Her eyes never leave the flashing grey scenery. "Twelve."
"I'm fifteen." I say.
We continue the journey in silence. The train gradually slows to a stop, and a Mogadorian with Bryony and Joe enter the carriage.
Before us is a huge crowd of Mogadorians. There are so many of them, that I am at first, scared. But these Mogadorians are different.
The look almost… human / Loric. They just look like a slightly paler version of us, unlike the Peacekeeper Mogs we usually see.
Bryony looks confused, "Are those… Mogs?"
Joe nods. "Yeah, they're true-born Mogs. Those ones we see all the time are vatborn."
I smile, "Trust Mr. Know-It-All to know everything. If I could just borrow 1% of your brain, I'd be a genius."
The main doors hiss open, and the Mogs start yelling and cheering, cruel sneers on their faces.
The walk to the tributes' quarters is overwhelming. Mogs surround us, some screaming abuse, others laughing at us, while some mock us, all the while 'cheering'.
Although I can hear my name amongst the crowd, which goes something along the lines of, "BOOOO Stephan" "moch rakh facks misse Stephan". Yeahh, I don't understand their language, but I have a feeling that they're not saying nice things about me.