Hey, second to last Training chapter. We knock a lot of Warriors out tonight. I can say that I have my Victor for training. I don't have one for the Games yet but I have my ideas. These were a bit slow, I do admit but hopefully it picks up again during The Capitol Party. I have some juicy drama planned for that part.

Anyway, on with the chapter (I am never good at interesting author's notes). I hope you enjoy.

The sound of terrified sobbing would attract any tribute with their eyes on the prize. Unfortunately for Pallas, this person happened to be Grover. Pallas was not sure if he ignored his footsteps or just did not register them but either way, he only took notice of the sound of wet mud being stepped in when the boy was looming over him.

Some part of Pallas hoped he would find a friendly smile on Grover's face, maybe even a smile of enjoyment but Grover just scowled at the boy.

"Got the sniffles after killing Loretta, eh?" he growled with more malice than even he expected. Pallas did not look up, his eyes focusing on the pre-sunrise sky.

"I-I would never, never hurt Loretta-"

"Cut the crap you crybaby, you were itching from the second the gong went off to stab her!"

"What the fuck do you care!" Pallas shouted back, for the first time facing the worn out looking boy. His blue eyes that always stood out were piercing against his mud-covered skin. These same blue eyes widened in shock and Pallas' words. The boy was not wrong, Grover did not care about Loretta. Sure, she was a sweet girl and she would not be someone he would kill away from the current situation. However, right now she was competition, he should have been pleased she was out of the running. However, the moment her face flashed in the sky, he got an anger in him that could only be calmed in one way. Finally killing Pallas.

"I will fucking kill your ass!" he growled, pulling an axe from his pack and readying himself. Pallas just glanced up at the boy and shrugged.

"Go on then." Grover looked at the boy in disbelief, his face red with anger.

"Are you not going to fight me?"

"Why? I just want you to take me out so I can see Loretta...this is boring."

"So what? You can kill her again-"

"I did not kill her!" Grover should have registered it long before Pallas threw the axe but his anger got the better of him. By the time he noticed it was an axe flying towards him and not just a dark mass, it had already struck his kneecap on the right leg. He watched in fear as the axe clattered to the floor, seconds before his leg flashed red and gave way from underneath him. However, the boy managed to grab onto a branch a steady himself.

Pallas looked up at him, his face derived from emotions. "Are you going to kill me or not?" he asked, moments before Grover threw his axe into his chest.

"I feel bad," Balina sighed as she watched the sunrise break through the dark sky. Her body was leaned against the small stone bridge that overlooked a large, natural lake. It was beautiful but Balina could not appreciate it. "They were our friends."

Shelly scoffed at her ally's words, nibbling on a small, stale piece of bread. "That's war."

"But this isn't war," Balina sighed. "This? It's just...sick!" her voice echoed through the woods, bouncing off the water and scaring some ducks that graced the water.

"Is that how you really feel?" Shelly asked.

"I still want to kill, it just feels wrong after we spent so much time together-"

"Look," Shelly said softly as she walked to Balina's side, pointing down at the water. "I am sure your friends will understand your actions...just like you will." Balina's smile dropped but before had a chance to run, Shelly was already kicking her off the bridge.

Grover pulled himself through the thick bushed that lead to his camp. Well, the two tree's that was his camp. With him and Tore being climbers, it only made sense that they would clamber up the tallest tree. However, what once was an amazing hiding place was now Grover's weakness.

Pallas' wound had left him unable to walk. Well, he could walk on his left leg but the boy found it easier to move by crawling.

Groaning and on the verge of screaming, Grover crashed through the bushes near the camp, the frustration of his handicap threatening to boil over. However, like a pan of bubbling water that had the heat turned off, his anger died down, his blue eyes falling on Tore.

"Hey, Grover!"

"What are you doing on the floor?" Grover hissed his arms straining to carry himself much further. The black figure, who be assumed was Tore stayed still yet an apologetic sigh escaped him.

"I fell out of the tree-"

"You what?" Grover bellowed.

There was a moment of silence before Tore spoke again. " I fell out of a tree?"

Grover slammed his hand into the ground, screaming in anger. Tore remained silent until his ally had calmed down. "What the hell is the point of an ally if they just die!"

"You are going to be very lonely in the arena then-"

"Tore? Just go away," Grover sighed.

"Ah, yeah," Tore sighed. "Can you move me please-"

"I haven't got working legs you fucked!"

"What the fuck happened to you?"

"At least I didn't fall from a fucking tree...Why won't they come get you?" Grover asked.

"Oh, the tree cover stops the craft getting to me," tore sighed, pointing at the craft that hovered nearby. "Please don't leave me here, friend."

Grover glared at his friend before rolling his eyes. "Fine!"

The bear stared at Vulcan, his amber eyes watching the Warrior for the slightest movement yet his was frozen and posed. Vulcan mirrored his response, his eyes shimmered with tears. It couldn't be a bear, they would not place such a deadly animal in the arena with him. Yet here it was, his brown fur allowing the animal to stand out slightly from the darkness.

Vulcan hoped that if he just stood his ground, the bear would see he meant no harm and leave but the animal was reluctant to turn his back. Maybe th warrior should back away, slowly, without turning his back but desperation forced him to stay. For behind the creature, hanging from a tree was Vulcan's pack. He no longer cared about the weapon, he craved the water and food it held. It had been twenty four hours since he last eaten or drank. Although his stomach had stopped grumbling hours ago, turning to it's own fat reserves, his throat was dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth. Vulcan had no doubt that although it would not kill him, a few hours longer without the nourishment, he would be no use in a fight.

"Please move-" Vulcan was unable to finish his sentence as with a bone rattling growl, the animal moved forward, showing off it's large, yellow teeth. However, that was not the thing that caught the boy's eye, it was the shimmer the bear made like some sort of hologram. To test his theory, he moved again allowing the animal to move, mirroring his last growl down to the last detail.

Vulcan smiled, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why, you are nothing more than a Halloween decoration!" he laughed, the animal once again growled. If Vulcan knew one thing about holograms it was that they could not hurt you.

With his new found confidence, Vulcan moved forward, paying no attention to the charging beast. Even when it swung its oversized paw at him, Vulcan just smiled. That was until it hit, his suit sparking red.

It didn't hurt when he was blasted into the air however, as he was thrown into the ground, his arm shattered from underneath him, sending a shockwave of pain through his body. The suit, that was once flashing red was now back to it usual, glossy black self.

A cannon sounded off in the distance as Vulcan rolled over, clutching his shoulder, pressing his face into the ground to muffle his screams. It took a minute of writhing in pain for his elimination from to kick in. After you die, your suit renders you paralyzed. The words bounced around his head yet when he stretched his fingers out in front of him, they moved without an issue.

Vulcan looked back up at the bear but but it was now gone, in its place was a projector hanging crudely from the tree, sparking as it did so. Vulcan looked down at his suit, his body still rushing from adrenalin. "They are electric…"

Veyron looked at the smoke that circled the tops of the tree's the smell of burning wood filling the evening air. It was not right, only a few metres away was another fire, one every few metres. Someone wanted it to be seen.

Veyron backed into the safety of his bush, little interest in whatever game the creator of the fires was playing. It was unlikely it would spread so it did not concern him. However, the boy kept a careful eye on the outside world. His interest only peaking when he caught side of Grover wading across the water and towards the otherside. Veyron could have ran out and killed him but it wasn't his style.

The Warrior saw no point in seeking out conflict. In his eyes, the best way to win was to wait it out until the final few. That way, he avoided the chance of premature injury. The final four. Veyron had decided, he would not make a move before then. Only when twenty canons had gone off would he attack fellow Warriors. There had already been twelve and if the fires had anything to do with it, there would be many more coming his way soon. I might just win this.

Pallas Narciso-16th

Balina Abbott-15th

Tore Dante-14th

Vulcan Omiros-13th

12 To Go.