Disclaimer: The Hunger Games is not mine.

Note: And here's the first part of Training Day Two, and our next batch of tributes.

Training Day Two – Morning
Help

Liana Kinney, 18
District Five

"I told him I'd help him."

Liana stared up at her mentor as the two of them sat down to breakfast. "You what? You're supposed to be helping me! I'm your tribute!"

Harakuise nodded. "Yes, you are. And he's your ally."

Liana blinked. "He's what?"

"Your ally – if you'll have him. I think it's a good match."

"For him or for me?"

"Both of you. The best alliances are. You have more experience, more training. He's patient, intelligent, and, most importantly, none of the other Careers see him as a threat."

"What if that's because he's not?"

Harakuise smiled a little. "He is."

"How can you tell?"

Harakuise's smile widened to a smirk. "Liana, out of the two of us, which one has actually won the Games?"

Liana blushed. "You, but—"

"Do you know how I won my Games, Liana?"

"You killed your district partner."

"I did. But that wasn't my most important kill. She was never the tribute to beat. She lasted as long as she did because of her alliance, because they protected each other. She was never the biggest threat." He leaned forward a little. "Do you know who was?"

"The Careers?" Liana guessed. Had there been Careers during his Games?

"Not a bad guess. There were two – Mars and Abstract. Does either name ring a bell?"

"No," Liana admitted.

"Of course not. Mars died in the bloodbath after underestimating a thirteen-year-old boy – and getting quite unlucky. Abstract lasted a bit longer – mostly by sitting outside a cave and picking off younger tributes. But the tribute to beat – the real threat during the Games – was a boy named Sher from District Eleven. In the end, though, he was too smart – too proud – for his own good."

"What happened?"

"I killed him."

"Just like that?"

"Just like that. I lured him into a trap with an offer of banding together, helping each other defeat our alliances from the inside. He was too arrogant to realize that I didn't need to outwit him. I just needed to stab him in the stomach. He was too clever. Too observant. In a fair fight – in a fair battle of wits – he would have bested me. Every time."

"So you cheated."

"I did. And you'll need to do the same, if you're going to get out of here. You're not the strongest. You're not the fastest. And, to be perfectly honest, you're not the most intelligent. But I think you have what it takes to cheat the Game."

"Why?"

"Because you're still waiting. One Career pack rejected you. The other would have accepted you. You shunned both of them. Waiting for something better. Something different. Something the others would never have thought of. This is it, Liana. This is your chance. Form your own pack. One the others will dismiss as a gathering of weaklings. Septimus is a start. He'll probably have a few other ideas, after what I told him last night. Let him form the pack. Let him lead. But be ready."

"Ready to do what? To stab him in the stomach?"

"If you have to. The others won't realize it – certainly the other Careers won't – but he's the tribute to beat. He's the one you need to watch out for. Stay close to him. Let him do the talking. Let him do the planning. But don't trust him for a moment. And don't turn your back on him. Do you understand?"

Of course she understood. Trust was never something she'd really considered. Allies were useful, but everyone knew that alliances didn't last forever. Even between Careers. Sometimes especially between Careers. "I understand."

"I hope so."

Liana hesitated. "What about Zach?"

Harakuise shook his head. "He's already chosen his alliance. He and Camden have their plan. And now we have ours."

"Is our plan better?" Had Zach had the right idea all along? Would joining District Four have been a better option?

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

Jediah Bouvier, 15
District Eight

"She needs help."

Jediah smiled a little as Adelia joined him in the hallway. Ivira and Gadget were rambling on again. Which wouldn't have been so bad if they weren't so insistent that he'd made a mistake volunteering, and that his brother had been a coward for letting him.

And the worst part was, he was beginning to wonder if they were right.

But neither of them had known what was coming. Jediah had volunteered for the Games – but not for this. He hadn't known he was volunteering to be chained and degraded and treated like an animal. And Bryson hadn't known – not really – what he was letting his brother volunteer for.

Should they have known? Should they have guessed? Maybe it should have been obvious from the start. 'Replacements' the escort had called them at the reaping. Not real tributes. Not the ones the Capitol would adore and fawn over and cry for when they died. They were prisoners. Captives. Animals. Nothing more.

Adelia shook her head. "What you did for your brother, Jediah … that was brave – not stupid. But what your brother did – that was brave, too … in a different way."

"How?"

Adelia hesitated for a moment, but then answered slowly, carefully. "When you volunteered, it wasn't just because you wanted to save his life, or save your family. It was also because you genuinely thought – no, because you knew – that you had a better chance. And maybe … maybe your brother knew it, too. Accepting that – it's not easy. It's not easy to admit that someone else might do better in your place. Not easy to admit that … that you need a little help."

Jediah swallowed hard. That made sense. Just as much sense as what Ivira had said – and it was much more comforting. "Thank you. I … maybe I need a little help, too." He hadn't wanted to admit it, but training alone the previous day had been terrible. He didn't want to face the Games the same way – left by himself, alone.

Adelia nodded. "Maybe we both do. I know I'm probably not an ideal ally, but—"

"You're perfect," Jediah blurted out before realizing what he'd said. "I mean, not perfect perfect – not like that – but I think we'd make good allies if – I mean, if that's what you meant."

Adelia giggled a little. "That is what I meant."

"Good. I mean, good that we meant the same thing. I wouldn't want you to think that I meant … something else. Not that you're not – I mean, I'm sure you're attractive – or would be if it weren't for – but that wouldn't be ... I should just stop, shouldn't I."

Adelia was clearly trying not to laugh, but, finally, she couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing, leaning back against the wall, almost doubled over. "I'm sorry," she gasped between laughs, but there was no need to apologize. Soon, the two of them were sitting on the floor of the hallway, their backs against the wall, laughing until their sides were sore.

Suddenly, the door opened, and Carolina poked her head out, confused. "Are you two all right?"

Finally, the pair of them managed to catch their breath. "We're fine," Adelia gasped. "I think … I think we're allies."

Allies. Jediah smiled. That sounded good. Sounded strong. Sounded a lot better than two teenagers giggling in the hallway.

At last, the two of them headed for the elevator. They still had about twenty minutes before the training area would open. Yesterday, he had dreaded going down there – chained and dressed in rags, shaved and barefoot. But Adelia was dressed exactly the same, and it didn't seem to bother her. And if it didn't bother her, why should it bother him?

And at least this time, he wouldn't be alone. He had an ally. Maybe they would find more. He had someone now – someone he could protect, someone who would protect him. Adelia smiled up at him as the elevator came to a halt. And, with that smile, he knew that what she had told Carolina wasn't completely true. They weren't just allies.

They were friends.

Audra Trevaille, 18
District Seven

"May I help you?"

Audra looked up at the trainer, startled. How long had she been standing there, staring at the weapons? She'd spent the first day of training at the survival stations, learning a little of this and a little of that. She'd wandered over to the weapons stations on a whim, curious. She shook her head, and the trainer shrugged and returned to watching the Careers, who clearly already knew what they were doing.

"I'd go with a rapier, myself."

Audra whirled around to face a boy and a girl. "I … I was just looking."

A smile played on the boy's lips. "I noticed."

A part of her wanted to apologize. For intruding, for taking up the trainers' time when she was just going to stand here and watch. But she stopped herself. She had as much right to be here as they did. They were Careers, from the look of them – the boy from Two and the girl from Five. But they didn't seem to be with a pack.

Why were they talking to her?

Audra tried to ignore them as she reached for a blade. They had already noticed her. What did she have to lose? She lifted the blade from its place on the rack, but it was heavier than it looked. It took both hands for her to swing it at the dummy, and, as it struck, the force felt like it might take her arms off. The blade clattered to the floor.

The girl giggled a little, but the boy stepped forward. "You need something lighter." He plucked a thin, sharp blade from the rack, tossed it from one hand to the other, then held it out to her. Audra cocked an eyebrow, but replaced the heavier blade and accepted his choice. It was lighter. This time, when she swung, she held on, slicing across the dummy's chest.

The boy nodded. "Not bad. But it's a superficial wound. You need to strike deeper if you want to do any real damage."

If she wanted to do any real damage. Her expression must have given her away, because the boy continued. "Or if you want to make the kill quickly. That first blow – it'll take a dozen of those to finish the job. If you want to make it quick, then you aim for the neck. The heart. A major artery."

Audra blinked. "Why are you helping me?"

"We're here to make you an offer. To ask you to join our alliance."

"Me?" Audra knew she was staring, but she couldn't help it. These were Careers. Trained killers. And they wanted her as an ally? It took a moment for her to ask the obvious question. "Why me?"

"The other two Career alliances … weren't for us. We're forming our own."

Probably better not to pry into Career internal politics, to ask why the other two groups weren't a good fit. "And you … what? Ran out of Careers?"

"Something like that."

"But why me? There are dozens of tributes you could ask."

"And we're planning to. Not dozens, of course, but we have our eyes on a few others. But we decided to come to you first."

"Why?"

"The others are already a group of three. If we come to them with a smaller group, it'll look like we're trying to join theirs. If we come with a larger group, it'll look like we want them to join ours. So we decided it would be best if we ask them three-on-three. And we decided you were the most likely to accept the offer."

"Or you thought I wouldn't accept if you came to me with a large, already-formed group. Maybe you figured then I'd feel like a last-minute addition, an add-on to the group. But if you come to me first, I feel like a real member."

The boy shrugged. "You caught me." He turned to go.

"Wait!" Audra called. The boy turned with a smile. Audra took a deep breath.

"That wasn't a 'no.'"

Thane Hayer, 17
District Nine

He couldn't help laughing.

Thane continued chuckling as the girl from Seven – the girl who had introduced herself as Audra – continued. "I know it sounds a bit … bizarre. But, please, listen to what he has to say."

Thane was about to object. To point out that joining with the Careers was a bad idea, regardless of what they said. Outer-district tributes who joined the Career pack didn't tend to last long. But, before he could, Delvin spoke up. "We're listening."

Septimus, the boy from Two, nodded. "Thank you. Do you know how Career packs originated?"

Thane shrugged. "Can't say I do. A bunch of teenagers got together and decided it would be fun to train to kill other kids?"

"I'm not talking about Career training," Septimus corrected. "The concept of a group of tributes forming an alliance during the Games – Do you know where that came from?" When his question met only silence, he answered it himself. "Groups of tributes – packs, if you will – didn't originally come together to hunt down other tributes, or even to take on each other. The first packs came together for protection. Stronger tributes began to realize they would last longer if they banded together.

"Most early packs were small – maybe three or four tributes – but, during the Ninth Games, a group of six formed. A group built not on bloodlust, but on trust and mutual protection. Do you know what happened to them?"

He didn't. "I don't know, but I do know at least five of them died."

"All six of them, actually," Septimus admitted. "But not quickly. They were able to protect each other for a long time. Four of them made it to the final six."

"But none made it home," Thane reasoned. "So who cares?"

"The strategy was sound; it was the execution that was flawed. The group was built on a foundation that could not stand; its two core members were a pair of rebels, a brother and sister who could never have left the arena – and they dragged their alliance down with them." He shook his head. "We won't have that problem."

"We wouldn't need it; we'd have other ones," Thane pointed out. "This isn't the Ninth Games. It's the 42nd. I'd wager there weren't many Careers back then."

"Not many, no."

"Well, now there are – besides you two, I mean. There are two other packs, and I'd like to avoid their attention, if I can."

Septimus smirked. "Why do you think Liana and I are proposing an alliance to a group of outer-district tributes? That's exactly what we want, too – to go unnoticed, to be underestimated. The other Careers know I've never been to the academy. And few of them take District Five seriously. We're just a few more tributes to them – just like you. They'll be too worried about each other to give us much thought." He shook his head. "We want the same thing."

Which was, of course, the problem. They did want the same thing. They both wanted to go home. But they couldn't both get what they wanted.

Then again, he had told himself the same thing about Sariya. He had said the same thing about Delvin. Why should these three be any different? Adding a few more tributes to their alliance – stronger tributes, well-prepared tributes – didn't change the basic plan at all. He didn't trust Septimus – that much was certain – but he didn't exactly trust Delvin, either. He didn't even really trust Sariya, his own district partner.

How much worse could these three be?

Thane glanced at Sariya, and then Delvin. They were both looking at him. When had he been elected leader? But he'd been the most vocal, the one questioning Septimus' idea. If he agreed, the others would probably follow. If he didn't…

If he didn't, then instead of three new allies, he would have three new enemies. Enemies who had apparently thought highly enough of him and his allies to consider enlisting them. Which meant if they refused, instead, they could find themselves at the top of Septimus' list of tributes to target.

That didn't leave much of a choice.

Melody Anson, 15
District Nine

"Why would they want help from the Careers?"

Melody glanced up at Louis, one of the boys from Eight, who had joined her at the fire-building station a few minutes ago. He was watching her district partners, Thane and Sariya, who had apparently joined up with two of the Careers, along with one of the boys from Six and a girl from Seven.

Melody shrugged. It was none of her business, really. They were her district partners, of course, but she didn't know anything about them – not really.

But she ventured a guess, anyway. "Maybe they figured those two weren't accepted into the main pack, so they're … not as dangerous? More trustworthy? I don't know."

Louis shook his head. "Seems to me like it would be the other way around. If I were in charge of a Career alliance, I'd want the people I could trust near me, even if they weren't quite as good, and I'd say no to the dangerous ones." He shrugged casually. "I guess that's why I'm not in charge of a Career alliance."

Melody smiled a little. It sounded almost like something her twin brother Arren would have said. "What about your other district partner – Myrah, right?" Louis asked. "What's she like?"

Melody shrugged. "She's okay, I guess. But we decided on the train that an alliance wouldn't really … work. I'm not used to…" Girls, she almost said. And that would have been the truth. She'd grown up with her father and four brothers. All her closest friends were boys. She had barely known what to say to Myrah. There had been no connection, no common ground.

But with Louis…

"What about your district partners?" she asked, changing the subject. "What are they like?"

"I don't really know," Louis shrugged, standing up suddenly. "I should go."

Melody watched him leave, startled. Had she said something wrong? Were his district partners a touchy subject for some reason? From the way he'd been talking, she had thought he might have come over to propose an alliance.

What had she done wrong?

"It's not you," came a voice from behind her. One of Louis' district partners – one of the other boys from Eight – took a seat beside her. "He's been doing that all day. Starting conversations, asking questions – then leaving as soon as the other person starts to ask the same things. He's trying to gather information."

Gathering information. But she hadn't told him anything – not really. Just that she wasn't in an alliance with Myrah, and Thane and Sariya were with the Careers. But he could have figured that out just by watching. "There's more than that," she said quietly. "More than information. He wants us to remember him."

"Remember him?"

"Yeah. Think about it. If you're in the arena, and you have a choice of who to hunt, are you going to go after someone you've never met, never talked to – or the kid you talked to that one day during training, the one whose name you actually know, the one who knows your name, knows a little about you?" She shook her head. "I'd go after the stranger – every time."

"Huh." The boy picked up a few sticks and started to build his own fire. "I hadn't thought of that."

"Me, neither – not until just now." She hesitated. "But why did you come over? Why tell me what he was doing?"

"I just didn't want you to think … well, to think that there was something wrong with you. Or with what you were doing, or what you'd said to him. You're doing fine."

"Am I? I thought he wanted to be my ally, but…"

"I don't think he wants anyone as an ally," the boy pointed out. "But if he did, I'm sure he'd want you."

"What about you? Would you want to be my ally?"

"Sure. You figured out what he was really doing, how he could use it as an advantage. That's exactly what I'd want in an ally."

"And you helped me, when you had no reason to," Melody reasoned. "That's what I'd want in an ally."

The boy smiled a little and held out his hand. "I'm Baylor."

"Melody." She shook it.

It felt good.

Evander Mercado, 16
District Three

He wished he could help them all.

Evander was trying to focus on the knots he was supposed to be tying, but it was no use. There was too much going on. Too many other tributes. Some hard at work, some wandering around aimlessly, waiting for some direction. Some help.

He wished he could give it to them.

So he had done the next best thing. The night after the reaping, on the train, he hadn't been able to sleep. So he'd stayed up and memorized the tributes' names and faces. All forty-five of them – forty-six if he counted himself. He couldn't help all of them. He couldn't get to know all of them. But he could know their names. He could know each of them as more than just a district number, even if he knew nothing else.

The shaved heads had thrown him at first. Made them look more alike. Which was probably the point – to make them look the same. To lump them all together into one group. The replacements. The ones who were only here because of the rebels the year before. It was sick. It was wrong.

But he couldn't deny that it was effective.

If they had meant to frighten the tributes into submission, to crush any ideas of rebelling in the arena, to quell any lingering doubts that the Capitol had total, absolute control … they had succeeded. The entire atmosphere in the training area was tense. Maybe it was always like this. Maybe this was simply what the Games did to people. Or maybe this year was worse.

He wished there was something he could do.

The three younger tributes from Eleven – Elani, Philus, and Pan – sat at a nearby station, huddled together. Elizabet and Fallon were at the edible insects station, giggling and whispering. Melody and Baylor had built a small fire. A few stations over, Myrah and Nadine were working around Aleron, who had settled into a hammock in the middle of the shelter-building station and refused to budge. Evander had tried to convince Aleron to join him at a few of the stations, but Aleron simply sat there, reading from a small notebook.

Evander wanted to help him. Them. All of them. But, in the back of his mind, he could still hear Miriam's words from the train. That's the wrong reason to want allies. Because, in the end, he wouldn't be able to help them. He would have to help himself, instead. He would have to choose his own life over the lives of his allies, if he wanted to make it out alive.

"Mind if we join you?"

Evander glanced up as a girl and a boy approached. District Eight – both of them. Jediah and … Adelia? Yes, that was right. Evander smiled warmly. "Sure. I'm Evander."

"I'm Adelia," the girl replied. "This is Jediah. And, actually, we weren't just wondering if we could join you at this station. We were wondering if … if you'd like to join us."

"Join you?"

The boy nodded. "Our alliance."

Evander blinked. He'd guessed as much, when they'd wandered over without any explanation, but he hadn't exactly expected them to be quite so forthcoming. "Why me?"

"I've been watching you," Adelia admitted. "Actually, you caught my eye when I was watching the reapings. Asking Avery to be your mentor – that was … kind. You seem like the sort of person we could trust. What do you think?"

Well, at least she was honest. And, if he was being honest, Jediah had caught his eye. Volunteering for his older brother – that had been brave. He seemed like the sort of person Evander could trust. "I'd be happy to join you." He shook her hand warmly. "Is there anyone else you had your eye on?"

"There is," Adelia nodded. "A few people, in fact. Do you know anything about them?" She gestured towards the shelter-building station.

Evander nodded. "The girls are Myrah and Nadine. They seem … nice?"

"What about the boy?" Jediah asked.

"Aleron. He's one of my district partners. But he didn't seem interested in an alliance – with anyone."

Adelia shrugged. "Well, let's see if we can change his mind."

Aleron Blanchet, 15
District Three

He didn't need their help.

Aleron watched the five of them from his hammock, pretending to read his diary. It didn't take the girl form Nine – Myrah – long to agree to an alliance. Nadine nodded along, not committing, but not arguing, either. Just then, the bell rang for lunch. As the group of them turned to go, Evander and the girl from Eight – Adelia – lingered by his hammock. "Aleron?" Evander asked. "Would you like to join us?"

Aleron ignored him. If he ignored him, maybe he would go away. Part of him kept hoping that was true about the whole thing – that if he ignored it long enough, it would go away. That it would change. That the rags and collar would be gone, that his hair would be back, that he would be back home in District Three and this would all be a bad dream.

But it was the second day now. He hadn't woken up. No one had come to save him. He would have to save himself, instead.

But he didn't need their help to do that.

"What're you reading?" the girl asked.

"My diary," Aleron mumbled, hoping she would go away.

Instead, she plopped down next to the hammock. "Neat. What's in it?"

"My plan for the arena," Aleron lied.

"Must be a good plan."

Aleron grinned. "The best."

"Want to tell me a little about it?"

Aleron shrugged. "Well, I don't think I should share my plan with anyone who's not my ally."

"Ah," Adelia nodded. "And what sort of allies are you looking for?"

He hadn't been looking, actually. He hadn't thought he would need any. He had hoped to be home by now. Hoped someone would come and tell him this had all been a mistake. But no one had. Did that mean he would need allies, after all?

"I'm looking for a group," he said vaguely. "A group that can take on the Careers."

"There are a lot of Careers," Adelia pointed out.

"And a lot of tributes who aren't."

"Good point. You know, there are five of us right now. If we had one more, we'd be the same size as the largest Career group."

Aleron perked up. "And you think we could fight them then?"

Adelia shrugged. "Not right away. But eventually, yes. In order to win … eventually the Careers have to go. So I say let them take care of each other during the bloodbath – let them fight it out – and wait to see who's left."

Aleron nodded. Not a bad idea. "And then?"

"And then we see what happens. If we're in a position to take them out … we take it."

Aleron grinned. "Sounds like my kind of allies."

Adelia smiled warmly. "We'd be happy to have you."

"You would?" Of course they would. Who wouldn't want to be his ally? Aleron slid out of his hammock, grinning up at Adelia and Evander. "Great! Let's get some lunch."

The three of them headed to the cafeteria, where they quickly found Jediah, Myrah, and Nadine. Six of them. Six bald-headed, raggedy-clothed, bare-footed tributes eating lunch together.

One of the biggest groups in the room.

Numbers weren't everything, of course. But numbers were important. Six of them could defend themselves better than two or three. Six of them could mount an attack that would be impossible with smaller numbers. Six of them could work harder, survive longer.

But only one of them could win.

Aleron picked at his food. Maybe this was better than being alone. But, in a way, it was worse. Because having allies made it real. He was really here, in the Capitol, making allies – allies for a fight to the death. A fight only one of them could survive. Only one of them would make it out – and that person had to be willing to fight. Willing to kill even his allies in order to survive.

And it was going to be him.

Nadine Olliston, 14
District Six

She couldn't help watching them.

Nadine fought back a twinge of guilt as she glanced over at Paget, Cordelia, Presley, and Alexi. They were watching her. Maybe wondering what she was doing – why she was here, with another group of tributes.

Another group that wanted her as an ally.

She hadn't meant to end up in another group. She had simply been working with Myrah. Waiting for a chance to ask if Myrah wanted to join her group. But then Adelia had come and asked them to join her, and Myrah had said yes before Nadine could object, before she could mention that she was already in a different alliance.

Now she would have to choose.

Nadine sat silently next to Myrah, who was chatting with Evander. Adelia, Jediah, and Aleron were discussing strategy – which stations they should go to next, whether they should split up and try to learn more that way. After all, a large group of tributes – even a large group of non-Careers – moving form station to station was sure to attract attention.

Nadine nodded along. That made sense. A lot more sense than Paget's strategy. The four of them – Paget, Cordelia, Presley, and Alexi – had stayed together the whole time, wandering from station to station. None of them were exactly large or threatening, but they had been getting attention. And Paget either hadn't noticed or didn't care.

Nadine swallowed hard. She liked this group. She and Myrah had hit it off right away at the shelter-building station. She was nice. She was friendly enough. She had been welcoming.

And, most importantly, she was normal.

Myrah wasn't a criminal. She wasn't a witch. She wasn't a murderer. She hadn't burned down an orphanage or set fire to the district square. She was just a kid. The sort of person Nadine would have expected to meet at school, or out on the streets in the district, just going about her life.

And maybe that was it. Myrah didn't seem like someone she would find in a death match. She was just a kid. Just a kid who wanted to go home.

Just like Nadine.

And the others – they were friendly. They were smiling. They seemed less like allies in a fight to the death and more like a group of ordinary teenagers eating lunch. Talking. Laughing. Barely noticing that all six of them were wearing rags and iron collars, not caring that their heads had been shaved and their feet were bare.

All six of them. Nadine looked around, surprised it had taken her this long to notice. All six of them were 'replacement' tributes. Extras. Was that why Adelia had chosen them? Had she noticed something?

Or was she simply being kind? Maybe she was simply offering an alliance to people who she knew would have difficulty finding one. Who wanted to ally with two little fourteen-year-old girls when there were older, stronger tributes to choose from? Maybe she had simply been drawn to people who looked like they needed help.

Or maybe it was intentional.

Maybe it didn't matter. Either way, Adelia had surrounded herself with people like her. Normal, everyday people who didn't deserve one bit of what was happening to them. People who didn't deserve to be treated like animals and humiliated in front of all of Panem. People who just wanted to go home.

People like her.

Nadine couldn't shake that thought. The idea that these people were more like her than her own district partners. Part of her felt guilty for that. She had always loved District Six. She had always felt at home there. But her district partners – they weren't like her. Not most of them, at least. This group – they were different. She could smile with them. She could talk with them.

Maybe she could even trust them.

Trust. As much as she'd wanted to, she had never really trusted any of her district partners. But these five … maybe. Maybe she could trust them. And that made all the difference.

She had made her choice.

"You see this little hole? This moth's just about to emerge. It's in there right now, struggling. It's digging its way through the thick hide of the cocoon. Now, I could help it."