POVs in this chapter:

Ray Archer

Iris Bloom

Antherton Desby

Claire De Leon

Forrest Clark

Starr Delby

Training- Day One

-Ray Archer D4-

It's everywhere. On the ground, in my eyes, on my hands. It has mixed with the air like a fine sheet of misty rain. I breath it in only to cough it up out of my lungs. Clutching my stomach, on my knees. Hacking. Blood. The world is blood. My life is blood.

Somewhere close I can hear water tumbling furiously over a bed of rocks. I must get to it. Quickly. Crawling at a painfully slow pace towards the sound, my fingers are soon sinking into soft earth. I can't see anything, but I know I am close. So close to salvation. Water is the only thing I know. The only thing I've ever had that's good and pure.

I keep moving; dragging myself forward until I feel warm water lapping at my elbows. I let myself fall into the stream, trying to clean my face and arms. Why does that make it worse? I feel sticky... and this water smells like metal and tastes like... blood. My eyes shoot open. I'm in a pool of blood. I'm practically bathing in it. Scrambling back, away from the polluted source I'm appalled to find that no matter how far I go, I can't escape it.

I trip over myself multiple times. Finally, I get good footing and manage to stand. I rub at my eyes until they start to hurt. Ripping off my shirt I dry my face. God, it stings, but at least I can see now. However, what I open my eyes to would make a blind man feel blessed for no vision. The small stream has grown; grown into a sea of blood. It gathers at my thighs and then pulls away- repeating the process over and over again. The level is rising. I must find a way out.

I start to run, or wade rather, but to what? There's nothing. Nothing but a world of blood. I feel a sharp, stinging pang on the back of my neck- like a wasp has suddenly decided to release its fury upon me. Smacking at the feeling I draw back my hand to see a little dot of black ash in my palm. Ash. Fire.

Looking around frantically I notice that it has begun to rain ashes and sparks. Pretty soon the ocean of blood has caught on fire. It's all around me. Roaring in my ears, beating at my skin, it singes my hair. A rising body of blood, and a sea of fire. Lord, the smell is awful. Ducking below the surface to avoid the flames, I accidentally swallow a mouthful of the red liquid. I begin to cough. I start to flail. I should know better than anyone that's the wrong thing to do in this type of situation. Always stay calm. But I can't, because I can't swim. It's too thick. God, where did all this even come from? A small voice inside my head whispers that I already know. That I've known all along. There's so much blood on my hands.

I've lost my life by winning the Hunger Games.

And then I wake up. My chest is heaving, and I'm covered in sweat. Throwing the covers off of me I stumble clumsily through my dimly lit room into the bathroom. I flip the light switch on and lean over the porcelain toilet... then puke up last night's dinner. I grip the sides on the bowl as my stomach empties its contents. The sensation scolds my esophagus. The acid seems to turn to liquid molten as it surges its way through my throat. Ugh. Too similar to my dream. I shudder, my nightmare.

I sit there for a while until my breathing has returned to its normal speed, then lay on my side and rest my head on the cool tile floor. What was all that about? The games haven't even started yet, and I already have Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Jeez. Closing my eyes I try to think of good memories to forget the dream.

My dad. What is he doing right now? The boat. It always seemed more like a home to me, not that dilapidated house we slept in at night. The coral reefs about a mile off shore. I wonder if that killer whale was still hanging around? I hope people stopped feeding him, I didn't want anything bad to happen to him.

My ears twitch when I hear an audible inhaling sound only a few feet away from me. Instantly I twist into a half sitting position and face the perpetrator. It's an avox. He literally jumps back about ten feet when I come up off the floor. He has a hand over his mouth and his eyes are wide like he's just seen a ghost. I frown at the boy. What's wrong with him?

He looks shocked, but regains his composure after a couple of moments. Watching warily he holds out his arms towards me. My brow creases in confusion, "Um,... thanks, but I don't really need a hug."

His eyes bug open for a minute, and I think he might actually laugh until I remember he's physically incapable of the action. Shaking his head humorously he holds up a finger. Reaching into his pocket he pulls out a small notepad and a tiny pen. He scribbles on it rapidly then rips off the top sheet of paper and holds it out to me.

I reach over and take it from him doubtfully. God, he'd better not ask me anything weird.

"Do you need medicine?"

I laugh at the question. Kid, you have no idea how much I need.

Glancing up at him I shake my head, "Nope. Just queasy. I'm not used to eating as much food as I did last night." I pat my mid-section in good humor, "Stomach's kind of small, I over did it by a bit."

He nods knowingly and scribbles on another note then hands it over.

"I am sorry for the intrusion. I was cleaning your room and I came in here to clean your bathroom. I thought you had left for breakfast."

My eyes shoot open, "Oh crap!" As politely as possible I shoo the servant out of my bedroom for some privacy. I jump in the shower and try to clean myself as quickly as possible, and then rummage through my drawers while also brushing my teeth. Throwing on a pair of black exercise shorts and a dark blue shirt I chuck the tooth brush into the bathroom sink and spit. I don't even have time to rinse. Hurriedly I slip on a pair of socks and the shoes my dad had given me before I left.

I run out of the room and nearly knock down the avox who had found me lying on the floor. I give him a quick handshake and thank him for his help, then sprint through the numerous halls and rooms toward the dining area. Everyone is already eating when I arrive.

My cheeks heat in embarrassment as I find a seat next to my mentor. I never dried my hair, and the water from the shower is trailing down my neck into my shirt.

"Well, get your beauty sleep?" Icarus asks lightly.

I almost snort at him, "Quite the opposite actually." I pile a helping of eggs, ham, and vegetables onto my plate and begin to wolf it down quickly.

My mentor, Grabel, smiles at me in amusement, "You don't have to eat so fast. We've still got about half an hour before training starts."

Relief floods through me. "Oh, good." At least I can enjoy my meal.

Dyner pushes away from the table and glances at Hazel. "Come on, we need to talk about training." Then turns and addresses us, "We will leave you two so you can discuss the matter in private as well."

Grabel thanks her and she nods curtly. Once both females have left the room my mentor cracks a huge smile and rolls his eyes, "That woman is so serious. I swear. She'd die before she'd laugh at a good joke."

Forcing a smile I turn my attention to my food and find I've suddenly lost my appetite. I'm like a cow to the Capitol. Fatten him up, get him ready for slaughter. Grimly I place my fork down.

I see Grabel watching me out of the corner of my eye. "Gotta eat. Eat as much as you can. Get some protein in you. It'll do ya good in the arena."

The arena. What would it be like? Jungle? Desert? A sea of blood... No matter the environment, it would certainly be a sea of blood by the time we were through with it.

"So, about the training. What can you do? Anything special?"

I gulp and resituate myself in my chair, "I can fish?"

He laughs, "Is that a question or the truth?"

Clearing my throat, I cross my arms over my chest, "Truth. I know- it sounds bad."

Grabel shakes his head, "No. Any survival skill you have sounds great to me. Especially one being you can catch your own food. And I'm guessing that since you can catch fish, you can also build traps? And it would be incredible luck for us if you've handled a spear or blade."

I nod, "Of course. My dad taught me to fish using a spear in shallow water. It was just for fun, not really meant to be a lesson on how to fight someone using a pointy stick."

"Really?" Grabel cocks his brows, "Tell me, did your old man teach you how to use anything else? Any other kind of other blades or weapons?"

I try to think back on all our small 'adventures' and camping trips, "Well, I know how to gut a fish, and yes, I do know how to build traps. I know some basic medical attention skills that he taught me. I know how to make and use a net."

He looks thoughtful for a moment, "Did your dad ever teach you any fighting techniques?"

It almost surprises me when I realize that he had, "Well, sort of, but they weren't anything real extravagant. Just some dry defense skills, not so much anything about taking the offense."

Grabel smiles and the corners of his eyes crinkle, "Sounds to me like your dad wasn't just teaching you how to fish."

I run a hand through my short, dark hair and instantly pull it away. Still soaked. "I don't see how any of this can really help. I don't know how to use a weapon against anyone. If I was going up against a career I don't think I could defend myself very well."

"Tell you what." He leans forward and folds his hands up, "Today in training, I want you to focus on the things you can't do. Then tomorrow, you can hone your skills with weapons. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't see you running with a career pack." I shake my head, no way. "That's what I thought. So you're going to have to figure out some survival skills. Such as building shelters, building fires, learn about plants, how to eat when you're in the wild, staying warm. All that stuff you need to learn on the first day. And really pound it into that brain of yours. Do the best you can to take in all that information so you can use it in the games. And don't worry about the things you already know. That stuff will come in handy in the arena, trust me. You're better off than most people."

We finished up planning out my training strategy and by 9:45, we made our descent down the tower into the training center.

-Iris Bloom D12-

"Iris Bloom?"

I step forward so a Peacekeeper can pin a number to my shirt. I have to bite my lip to keep from growling at the woman- I don't like Capitolites getting so close to me.

Her eyes are half open and she sort of pushes me off to the side when she's done. I feel a faint snarl ripple in my chest, but Daryl grabs me by the elbow and tows me away before I can make any kind of scene.

I soon forget about the guard though, because I'm overwhelmed by the massive training area. It's huge! And filled with weapons. Officials stand patiently at stations while we are being debriefed by Alta, the head trainer.

"Good morning tributes, I'm glad to see you're all here and ready to go."

I barely hear her as she talks to us about the varying stations available to train at. I'm too busy studying my fellow tributes. I receive a few dirty looks that I barely acknowledge. D1 is typical- two powerful careers (the male is actually very massive) standing erect with their arms crossed over their chests. D3 isn't a surprise either, although the girl doesn't look like she'd go down too easily in a fight. D5 catches my eye, one reason being because the female pulled that outrageous stunt during the chariot race, and the other being the boy is so ill looking.

I notice everyone is beginning to spread out, including my own partner. Huh, she must have finished her speech pretty quickly. For a moment I'm torn about whether to stay with him or not. Eventually I decide against training alongside him. I needed to get used to being separated from him anyway.

The first place I go is to the weapons. I don't want the careers to let them think they can intimidate me. According to the rules, you're not supposed to spar or fight with other tributes during training- but that doesn't keep anyone from giving death glares and saying insulting things.

My eyes scan the wide and seemingly never ending collection of blades. Almost immediately my gaze stops when it hits a beautiful, sleek, compact crossbow. It's hanging on the wall, it's silver form reflecting all the light. My mouth goes a little dry at the sight. My fingers itch to pick up the weapon and run off with it. God, I need that.

I notice someone shadowing me off to the left, and I avert my eyes. Reluctantly I pick up a small knife and throw it up and down in my palm. Trying to ignore the person that's slowly moving closer to me. Who is it? Ah, what the hell am I doing pretending he's not there? Cocking a brow threateningly I raise my chin high and look up to find myself staring at the lower part of someone's chest. Quickly I stagger back away from the D1 male tribute. He's grinning evilly and takes a glance at the wall. The bow.

My grip tightens on the tiny dagger; I don't have to look to know my knuckles have turned white. Gritting my teeth I stare as he leans over a bin of weapons and hefts the weapon, my weapon, off of its rack. How. Dare. He.

He holds it up and admires it. I think he's mocking me. Absently I feel my other hand reaching for a second weapon. He eyes me curiously, "This is nice. You ever shoot one before?"

My eyes blink once. I think about telling him to hand it over to me and let me show him what I can do with a crossbow- but think better of it. Narrowing my brows and lowering my head I grind my teeth together. I say nothing.

"Are you mute or something? Probably are. On your way to becoming an Avox, huh?" He looks down at the weapon and laughs, "What, you think you could be like the Katniss Everdeen or something?" He looks back at me, "News for you- you're too short." The boy laughs like it's the funniest joke ever told.

Just go away. Save this for the games, I think with venom.

"You probably couldn't even hold this up, much less shoo-" I turn my back and walk away.

My breathing is out of control. My heart is thundering. Why did he have to do that? One thing is for sure, if he keeps this up for the next few days then I'll make sure that he pays for it in the arena.

I chuck the small weapon I had been holding into a spare bin, saunter over to a different weapons training station- one that's not completely full- and go up to a trainer. He's tall, and lean, and looks surprised to see me.

"Uh, want see what ya got?" He tosses a large throwing dagger into the air and catches it by the blade.

Smiling I hold out my hand and he places it in my palm. He shows me how to stand and aim the weapon, and then steers me over to the other tributes that are practicing on dummies. Their trainers look amused and stop to watch the show. What do I do? Should I hide my skills? Should I show them everything I have?

I decide to meet somewhere in the middle. Cocking my arm back I use as much wrist action as possible, and after a few moments of taking aim, throw the blade full force. It sticks right in the middle of the dummies face. My hand instantly covers my mouth. Crap. I didn't mean to do that good. I look over at my trainer whose mouth is gaping wide open.

"Good Lord!" He looks down at me and beams, "That was amazing! Want to try again?"

I nod, this time I'll have to do better. He scampers off to collect another knife and pry the one I threw out of the target. Glancing sideways, I notice the other tributes are glaring, or staring. One happens to be Monique. Yeah, I think that's her name. She gives me a very dirty look and goes back to her practicing. She's very good. Almost as good as I am, I think a bit smugly.

The other two are boys; they simply shrug it off- as if it was beginners luck. I can't help but smile at my small achievement.

The trainer comes back with a basketful of knives. Guess he plans on me being here for some time. While I humored him, and tested out all the blades, I made sure to die down on the bull's-eye aiming. I'd hit the dummies in the shoulder, or leg- which was fine with him. He seemed to understand my motives though. He didn't push me or ask for any more than I was willing to give.

By the time I left that station I was eager to try out something else. Maybe something less weapon oriented.

I soon found myself at a survival station. There was only one guy here, and he had pictures and a type of power point set up. He simply talked and nothing more, but it was useful, so I took a seat. There's three portable walls put up around this area, and it's toward the back. I'm guessing it's because they need some dim lighting for the screen.

Grinning proudly he came over to me, "Good morning."

I nodded and smiled back, "Indeed it is."

Sticking out a hand he introduced himself; most trainers didn't bother with formality, so I think it's safe to guess this guy didn't get very many visitors. It wasn't hands on, so most tributes didn't bother with it. Although I already knew a lot of stuff from hunting with my father, I figured it'd be good for me to learn about more extreme environments.

He pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose and smiles, "So, I'll be beginning the presentation in a few minutes." He checks his watch, "It's almost 10:30. We'll start then."

Nodding I prop my feet up on a chair in front of me. He gives me a clip board and a sheet of paper. I must look at them in a funny way, because he laughs, "For taking notes. You can leave them here when the power point is over. I'll hold them for you so you don't have to carry them around all day and make sure they get to you before you leave."

"Oh, thank you." I say politely.

Luckily he waited, because two more tributes showed up. A very good looking boy, I think I heard him say his name was Ray, and then a girl, Hazel, came in. The boy nodded at me with respect as he passed. Respect? The motion surprised me, and I decided I liked him right away. He wasn't a total jerk- but he wasn't a brown noser. He sat down a few chairs away, just like the girl did. She seemed nice enough. It probably wouldn't be a bad idea to make allies with either one of them. Especially the guy, he struck me as the type of person that wouldn't stab me in the back the moment I turned around. Ray also looked like the type of person who'd be good in a fight. I'm sure Hazel had a couple of tricks hidden up her sleeves as well.

I don't think the 'trainer' could have been happier. He was practically giddy with excitement. After introducing us to a few plants and letting us handle some of the more dangerous ones- just so we were a little more familiar with them- he darkened the room further and started his little visual show. It consisted of very useful information that I actually did end up taking notes over. He talked throughout the whole presentation and pointed out certain things, informing us how to tell different plants apart by touch, taste, sight and smell. We also learned about how to survive extreme weather, how to stay warm or cool, and how to find water in even the driest of places.

After his picture show was through he talked a little more about plant life and survival in general. I was genuinely interested in what he had to say, but still- I decided that just sitting there simply wasn't for me. So when the session finally ended, I was happy to move on.

I suppose that at this point I didn't have much of a strategy for the training, I'd have to make better plans for tomorrow.

For the better part of the day I just did whatever appealed to me. I learned how to tie knots (another station that wasn't often occupied), I bumped into Daryl later on and we trained alongside each other while in a spear throwing class- which neither of us turned out to be very good at.

I also went to a climbing class, and while there discovered that in another life I could have been friends with the Hazel girl, the one I'd first met about an hour ago. Turns out she was only 15, which kind of surprised me. She looked somehow more mature than that. And she was one heck of a climber, perhaps better than me. If I had to compare her to an animal I would say she was a squirrel because of the way she 'scurried' up a tree. Although we never really talked- I think we raced each other a couple of times. I had to leave though; she was starting to get to me. I didn't need to make any friends, or feel sorry for anyone. I couldn't let that get in the way during the games, when it was time to kill.

-Antherton Desby D1-

Damn all these people. Why are they even here? They're all puny and weak. Very few of them can actually fight, and even fewer possess the brains to compensate. I twirl a heavy sword in my hand, playing with its weight. I could pretty much use any weapon, the question was which one? Ah, it didn't matter. I could decide after taking the Cornucopia. That was another thing I had to do- make alliances.

I grimace just thinking about it. Most of the people here aren't up to my standards physically speaking. It was more than likely I would end up partnering with Lorraine, but the bitch was pretty annoying, so I don't know how well I could control my urges to kill around her. That girl from district five though, I like her. Even if she did upstage me, I want her on my side. And that guy from 7. He is really the only person out of this whole group who might stand a slim chance against me in hand to hand combat. So he was either going to join the group, or be on my list of 'which tributes to kill first'.

Tossing the sword into a bin I walk away from the wall of weapons and over to a fighting tactics class. Alta herself is the trainer of this this class. I walked into a circle of tributes gathered around the woman, and even though they could see me they chose to ignore me. There were about 8 tributes listening to her lecture, most were guys, but there were a few girls. One of which was a particularly small girl. I wanted to laugh at the sight of her; she looked like she was about twelve. What the Hell was she doing at this station?

"Hand to hand combat is like the way a person writes- no one does it the exact same way as another. Some people-" She points at me, and I can't help but smirk, "Have a larger muscle mass, thus making them more physically able." She moves over to the little girl and places a hand on the tiny tribute's shoulder, "And then others are smaller. Their weight and height allows them to move quickly and provides them with incredible bouts of speed."

The tiny brunette cocks a brow at me and I narrow my brows threateningly. Careful girly, I'm not completely against strangling small children. Even though the fear in her eyes is evident, she averts her gaze and lifts her chin a bit higher. I shake my head; man the younger tributes this year sure have some fire in them.

Alta claps her hands together and takes a step back, "This station will allow you a chance to see what it's like to fight another person using nothing but your bare hands and a bit of elbow grease. Depending on your size and strategy, I suggest you practice either a blocking tactic- which would be more along the lines of playing on defense, or a striking tactic- which would mean you plan on taking the offense more often than not during the actual games. There are training dummies standing by, and live sparing partners in case a dummy isn't enough or doesn't apply to the type of training you wish to complete here." She narrows her eyes dangerously, "You may not, and I repeat, MAY NOT spar with fellow tributes."

And then she walked away, not even bothering to tell us what the consequences were. Cracking my knuckles together I walk up to their training dummy, there was no way I could practice my best move on a real person.

I played around at first, figuring out the best angle to land my real blow, but even just my practicing was drawing a crowd. People watched curiously as I dance lightly on my feet like a boxer. I do a few fake outs and then decide to show everyone what they'll be seeing in the arena- my famous right hook.

I caught the dummy right below the left ear. The sound of busting plastic reverberated throughout the entire room. Grinning like a mad man I watched as the neck cracks and the head teeters back and forth then rolls off the dummies shoulders and falls to the floor, hitting the dark tile with a resounding thud.

I look around to see that practically all eyes in the center are trained on me. That's right, observe and admire. Everyone knows who to watch out for during the games. Glancing up into the stands I spot the Gamemakers staring at me with smug satisfaction. I give them a thumbs up and saunter off to find a sparring partner, needless to say the guy I choose isn't exactly ecstatic about the idea.

By the time I'm through with showing off, I decide to take a spear throwing class. There are a couple of other guys there, I think it's the one from 2 and the other from 11. Neither acknowledges me when I show up. What's with that? Are people just too scared?

I need to start figuring people out so I can make allies.

Strutting up towards a silver rack I pry a spear off the wall and stand off to the side, watching the other two guys throw. They actually weren't bad. I mean, you could tell that neither had ever handled a spear before, but they were doing well for being so inexperienced.

After observing them for a few minutes I noticed the one from 11 tense. Finally, without looking, he addressed me, "What the Hell are you looking at?"

I feel my brows crease at his funny accent, "Not sure. I know it's not a good display of spear throwing though."

His shoulders hunch further and he spins on his heel to face me, "How would you like to take the place of that dummy and see what you think of my aim then?"

From the corner of my eye I see the D2 guy smirking. Yeah, you're going to think its real funny til we're out there in the arena.

My blood starts to pump a little faster at the idea of a challenge, but before I can say anything a trainer steps up to us.

"Is there a problem here?"

D11 narrows his eyes and I take note of his grip tightening on his spear. Laughing, I turn and walk away- nothing that a good right hook can't fix.

Well, I guess it's obvious that I wasn't going to be the one to put together a group. I tried to study and decode everyone, but I just ended up getting distracted and a huge ass headache. If a career pack was formed they'd have to come to me. I'm tired of fishing for allies.

-Claire De Leon D3-

Lunch time. They bring in large carts piled with food. Of course the careers are the first ones to serve themselves, and then the select few brave tributes from lower districts manage to squeeze in. To tell you the truth I'm not all that hungry, so I wait until the 'pigs' have cleared the field to grab something.

As I'm gathering grapes, slices of apples and oranges, and other fruits onto my plate I peek through my dark lashes at the tributes around me. They're the weaker willed ones. I assume that's how I must look though, letting the Careers have their way without putting up a fight, so I can't judge. But the difference between them and me is I'm not afraid; I'm simply not in the mood to mess with anyone. Not yet. I just want to focus on what little training I receive before the games.

I take my silver plate which is weighed down with healthy snacks and find a place to sit on the floor far from the other tributes. I don't need or want to be near any of them. I notice most of them eat by themselves, while others are already forming little groups. I don't know their names, no one knows names yet. You're D2 female, or D5 male. The two small girls of this year's group were sitting together talking, D12 and D10. Huh. Not surprising. They'd make quite the little team if they became allies. D1 girl, D5 girl and D2 girl were also huddled in their own small gathering. Looks like they're starting the games early. Talk about a career pack. Girls were always more prone to making allies early on though. Some people say it's a clingy thing that only females do, others say it's smart. The rest of the tributes eat with their district partners or by themselves.

Why am I not with Newt? Neither of us have the same idea for how we want to play this game. I'm not sure I want an ally yet- I can't put my life in the hands of a total stranger. That's why so many district partners pair up in the games. They're familiar with each other. But I'm not stupid, I know Newt is capable of more than he lets on. And I 'know' as much about him as I do any of my other fellow gamers- which is zip. He could be anybody. He could be one of those huuuge nerds that turn out to be insane. Like a crazy scientist or something. The more I let myself think about it, the more paranoid I got.

Popping a green grape into my mouth I munch thoughtfully. I just can't do it. Not unless someone can gain my trust. To do that they'd first have to save my life (not just be nice to me, like Newt) - and in this game, getting saved by someone is about as likely as sprouting wings. Everyone is your enemy, everyone wants to kill you. If they don't, then they're as good as dead themselves.

I finish my meal quickly, and before I leave I grab a bottle of red liquid off one of the refreshment carts. As I'm twisting the cap off it somehow slips away from my fingers and hits the floor. It bounces a couple of times and rolls off. Great. I watch glumly as it thumps against someone's foot and stops. Nice shoes, I think to myself absently. I raise my gaze to meet a sea green one. D4 boy. I don't have to guess because blue-green eyes are the signature physical feature of District Four. Plus he's tan.

He looks down at the cap and bends over to pick it up. He tosses it underhanded to me and I catch the small thing with ease. I feel my mouth pull down into a slight frown; I don't know why. Maybe I'm mad that he's being nice... or maybe I'm angry with myself for thinking he's cute. I give a curt nod to him in thanks. He presses his lips together, runs a hand through his hair, gives me a small wave and walks away.

You see? What was that? I can never tell. Was D4 boy being sincere? Or was he kissing up? I stare at the cap in my palm, and take a swig from the bottle. It's a delicious drink. Like strawberries and sugar in liquid form. I finish it off and chuck the bottle into a trash can. Doubtfully I glance at the bottle cap one last time. I've seen it a couple times in the games. Handsome boy, lonely girl. What does lonely girl do? Fall for handsome boy. What does handsome boy do to lonely girl? Gain her trust, and stab her in the back; literally.

I trash the bottle cap. Geez, I'm getting paranoid.

Scowling I make my way to a medical class. There's a couple of people there, one being D6 boy and the other D7 girl. The head trainer is a man, he's withered and old but in a wise way, not a 'I could drop dead any second' way.

I learn the boy is Erik and that the girl is Phoebe- I like them both. They're quiet, and sensible.

"So, while you're out in the arena, it's safe to assume- if anything- you'll receive at least minor injuries." He leans against a polished silver counter and folds his arms across his chest. "Any of you kids ever tended to an injury?"

"I sucked my finger when I cut it a couple days back, does that count?"

I grin at the boy's light sarcasm; from the corner of my eye I see Phoebe smiling too.

"Yes, actually it does. Anything that you do to staunch bleeding be it for a minor injury or a major."

I take in a deep breath and do my best to pay attention, but my mind wanders away from the lesson eventually. I think about the arena, the fighting, the people. The kids I'll have to kill. Is it worth it? My humanity is at stake. If I was able to win, could I even live with myself? I've heard that some past victors have killed themselves because they can't handle the nightmares... or the guilt. Would I be one of those people? I've never been known for backing down, but I've never been known as a killer either. What would happen to me if I took another's life? Would I go insane? Would I shut down, like my brother? He won't ever be the same- the games changed him... they tore him apart- from the inside.

"All anyone ever thinks about during the games- when it comes to medicine- is tending to wounds received by man-made weapons. Did you know most of the injuries obtained during the games are from the environment?"

It made sense I guess; every tribute was constantly surrounded by untamed animals and the harshest landscapes known to man. Not to mention mutts.

"In this part of the session I'll teach you how to use plants to effectively heal and soothe most wounds you will receive that don't come from a blade. I'll show you how to treat poisonous bites, festering wounds, and how to combat heat as well as the cold."

He told us many things, like to wear our heaviest clothing closest to our bodies in freezing weather- this way, if we got to hot, we would take off the lightest layers first. He told us to stuff leaves into our jackets if we happened to not have multiple articles of clothing. He taught us how to make weird cloaks for hot weather- so we wouldn't get burned by the sun. He showed us how to make ointments to treat burns and the best ways to treat different levels of frostbite. I took much knowledge from the class, and in the end I was extremely glad I went.

Afterwards I went to a fencing class. There I learned the advantages I have over people, and how to spot and use the weaknesses of my opponents. One move the trainer showed me was stuck in my head, and I couldn't quit thinking about it. He showed me how to sneak up on a person, slash their calves in half- cutting their tendons and virtually immobilizing them- then grab them by the hair, pull their head back, and slice their throat. A quick, easy kill. Efficient. The only question was, could I do it? So many kids come into these games thinking 'I'll just do the best I can, and hope I win'. That's not enough. You have to kill. If you want to win, then you have to want to kill.

-Forrest Clark D7-

If this weren't the games I'd be laughing my ass off right now. The two smallest girls of the group have definitely become allies- now they're trying to 'recruit' me. Both are fiery bundles of fury, and together they're more stubborn than a million donkeys.

"Please! Won't you at least consider it?"

I sigh heavily, "Yeah, I'll consider it."

The blonde one frowns, "That didn't sound very convincing."

I chuckle, "Sorry. Just give me some time. Okay? This is the first day of training- by the time the games start you might not even want me. Are you even sure that you want to be allies with each other? I mean you're kind of rushing it aren't you?"

Iris smiles brightly, "Of course we want you in our group, and I don't think we're rushing it. We just like to be prepared."

Laveda cocks a brow, "Yeah, you know how hectic it's going to be when we get out in that arena? Everyone's going to be scrambling to get away. No one is going to know who to trust. It's going to be utter chaos. Why not make allies here and now where you can actually approach other people without the danger of getting your head chopped off? At least we've got a plan. It just won't work without a third person."

I watch her doubtfully, "I don't know. You guys are probably just teaming up so when the games start you can jump me. Is that your plan? Make an ally, kill him. Make another ally, kill that one."

Iris' mouth drops in mock horror, "Of course not!"

"Riiight." Laveda winks at Iris and gives her a thumbs up.

Laughing at their little act I straighten up and cock my arm back as I notch an arrow across my bow, "You guys are a riot." I release the arrow and it flies straight past the target and into the wall behind it. I flinch as I hear a loud snapping sound.

Frowning I look down at Iris who's mouth is drawn up in a contemplative way. "What?" I ask.

She shakes her head, "It's nothing."

I smile, "You don't like my archery skills? See? Told you. Reconsidering me already, huh?"

Again she shakes her head, her yellow curls bounce around her face, "Nope. We still want you."

My shoulders sag, "Man, you guys are persistent. Alright, I give in a bit. What's this 'plan' of yours?"

Both girls grin a little evilly; Laveda is the one to speak first, "We can't tell you, it's a secret."

"Oh, I see." I walk off towards the sword section; they follow like a couple of lions tracking a wounded deer.

"Wait!" Iris grabs hold of my wrist, "We'll tell you if you become allies with us." Her blue eyes have gone wide as she looks up at me pleadingly. "Please? Just say yes."

I rub my forehead, and walk over to a rack complete with a diverse array of swords. I pick one that's pure black and slash a dummy with it. The two girls shadow me, waiting impatiently. Laveda finally rolls her eyes and grabs hold of Iris' arm, "Come on, obviously he's a career and we've told him enough."

I swing the sword around in arches, "I'm not a career."

Laveda struggles to pull Iris away, but the blonde stands her ground, "I know you aren't."

Closing my eyes, I rest the tip of the sword against the floor and lean forward on the hilt, "Do you guys plan on letting anyone else into this group?"

The corner of the brunette's mouth twitches, "Maybe. We're trying to figure that part out."

"So why do you want me? Why not sweet talk some career?"

Iris folds her arms across her chest, "There's no such thing as sweet talking a career. We want you because we don't want them to have you."

I stare at both the girls. Little devils or angels? I couldn't tell yet. Did I want to do this? I couldn't imagine myself joining a career pack. What choice did I have? Besides, they seemed pretty eager about this plan.

Breathing in deeply, I run a hand through my hair. "Fine. I'm in." I finally say. Am I crazy?

Iris jumps up and down excitedly and Laveda beams, "Awesome!"

"But-" I hold up a finger, "You have to tell me what your grand idea is."

Laveda's eyes narrow, "Okay, but if you betray us- we will kill you."

My brows shoot up, "I'm not that type of person, but I'm going to tell you right now- this won't work if we can't trust each other. Okay? If I split from you guys, which eventually I will, I'll let you know before I do it."

"It's a deal, but you can't go to a career group." Laveda's brows couldn't furrow any farther.

I laugh, "I never planned on it."

Iris leans in animatedly, "Okay, we'll tell you our plan, but not until after the training. Kay? The most I can tell you is that this year the Careers aren't taking the Cornucopia. The Hunters are."

"Hunters?" I laughed, "What's that?"

"You'll see soon enough!" And without another word they were off.

-Starr Delby D2-

I sat in my chair watching the presentation with earnest. The title was "Control Your Opponent". The trainer is teaching us how to manipulate, understand, and persuade other tributes to do things that we want them to. He also taught us how to self soothe; how to keep our cool in dangerous situations.

"The Hunger Games should be renamed The Mind Games- because that's what they're all about. Or at least you can make them that way." He walks around. "You see, people are at their most vulnerable when they're about to lose everything. That's the best time to take charge. The unfamiliarity of the situation will cause them to think erratically. They'll want someone to look up to, someone that will protect them, and even if they don't admit it- someone to tell them what to do. They'll fear their own instincts; they'll want someone who's powerful and calm to lead them." He circles back to the front of the room and stands before us, leaning back against a counter. "Most of you are here because you plan on leading a group. But that's just it- don't lead, control. You want to control every element you possibly can. Those who control- win."

I glance around. There are about eight people in the room all together, including one of my allies- Lorraine. She smirks at me and I turn my head away. She thinks she's in charge, but she's not. Monique will be. That I can already tell.

The trainer droned on about how to manipulate and how to think for others. He told us how to appear fearless. My favorite part- and what I considered most useful to be- consisted of how to tell when someone is lying to you. The first signs of betrayal.

Once the session was through with, Lorraine and I walked together out of the room. We had already established a Career pack; we were already receiving looks of disgust and admiration. I felt so powerful. I loved it. I loved control.

"Interesting." Lorraine said without any real interest at all.

I suppress an eye roll, "I thought it was; yes."

Before we can go much farther the head trainer, Alta, calls it a day, "Tributes. I liked what I saw today; keep it up. Tomorrow, try to work even harder. Eat a good dinner, and get some sleep. You're going to need it."

Monique runs up to us, grinning like a mad woman.

"Hey," I say with lacking enthusiasm.

She nods at me, "I think we should train together tomorrow. Let everyone know not to mess with us. What do ya think? It would make it all the more easy to take the Cornucopia."

Control, I think with a smirk. "Yeah, sounds like a good plan."

Lorraine looks a bit peeved at the idea of Monique telling us what to do, but I don't think she has any other strategy. "Sounds fine to me too, I guess."

"Cool." Then the girl from five waltzes off.

Rain crosses her arms over her chest and watches Monique disappear into an elevator. I notice her jaw clench.

"What?"

She blinks as if she has forgotten I was there; she seems to think about saying something, and then shakes her head, "Nothing."

I shrug, "Alright, if you say so."

We walk to the elevators together and part ways without a goodbye. We are not friends, just allies. And I don't want any formalities, hopefully it stays this way.

Zane and I have to ride in the same elevator. There's an awkward silence between us; I watch his back the whole time. Finally, he speaks,

"Guess you've started a group, huh?"

My mouth has gone dry; I have to clear my throat to speak. "I offered you a chance to join me. You declined."

He turns his head sideways to glance at me, "I never said I wouldn't make an alliance, I just said I needed time to think."

I cock a brow in surprise, "So what? Are you saying you want to join now?"

He faces the door again, "Nope."

"Whatever." I cross my arms and lean against the wall.

"Guess this means we're enemies now. Right?"

I thump my head against the wall, "Even if we were allies, we'd still be enemies."

He shrugs, "Guess so. I figured you'd be a Career."

I snort, "Well what did you expect, we're from Two."

His head goes down a bit, "I know."

I scowl, "Are you ashamed or something?"

"Aren't you?" He asks quietly.

The doors to the elevator fling open when we reach our floor and I walk swiftly past him. Jack ass.

That night we eat dinner without exchanging many words. Our mentors converse mildly about the games and our escort gushes about what we should wear for the interviews. I don't pay much attention to anyone. When it's time for bed, I dress in silk pajamas and rest my head on my pillow. I don't get under the sheets. I don't snuggle against the comforter. I simply lay my head down, close my eyes… and sleep. It will be one of last times I sleep so well, I'm sure of it.

Authors Note: Yay! Tis finito! One more training chapter, then scores, and then interviews. The scores will be split into two chapters (twelve tributes will be in each chapter) and they will be short snippets of them doing something and then I will just give the score. Scores will be given not only according to strengths, but attitude and strategy. Some tributes might get a low score because their strategy is to hold back. The score will not affect the outcome of your tribute. So your tribute could get a five and still win. The interviews will be split up into twenty four different POVs as well (two chapters). Then the chapter after that… the games begin! We're getting so close! Remember to vote for your favorite tribute! I'm taking the poll down a couple days after I post this chapter. By the way, I haven't had internet for over three weeks (I have to use McDonalds free Wi-Fi in order to post this!) and that's why it has taken me so long to get this chapter up! Sorry! I'll jump right onto the next chapter. Thanks for your patience and remember to review!