A/N: gosh darn it i feel so bad. the chapters haven't been as good as i wanted lately :( thanks to all those who have stuck with me threw this slump :D i promise as sooooon as the interviews come, it will get much better, probably in next ch. or the one after that :) i'm not sure if i should continue this story a little, like add a couple more paragraphs or whatever. it seemed alright as an ending, but by all means, let me know if you have ANY suggestions! or praise, comments, constructive criticism, all that jazz! ;D anyways, on with chapter 6!

-mockingjay :)

Gale stared at the training gym, eager to get his blood flowing. After days of sitting in the train, and then at their floor in the giant tribute building, it was a relief to be doing something. He didn't think about why he was here, though. To do that would be equivalent to surrendering his hold on sanity. No, he just focused on the equipment, the challenges ahead of him.

He reviewed their strategy of sorts. Intimidate the field a little bit, excelling at what he could without revealing his full talent. He was to learn new skills as much as possible, such as spear and knife throwing and fire starting. He was to stay clear of knot tying, since that was his biggest advantage; his trap setting skills. He could go to archery if he wished, but shouldn't let everyone know the extent of his skill. It was up to Mira and him whether they spent any time together during training, but Gale didn't care either way.

After Atala, the tall, lean woman who ran the training gym, told them the rules, he went straight to the spear throwing. There were nearly always spears in the Cornucopia, while there weren't always bows. He had decided early on that he would have to learn spear throwing; it may very well be his life and death in the weeks to come.

He picked up a long, hard shaft and examined the head. He felt the sharp tip, and imagined ramming it through flesh. The instructor asked him if he'd ever used a spear before, and he answered with a curt no.

Instead of focusing on chit chat, he turned his attention to the practice dummy ten yards ahead of him. He gripped the shaft of the spear tightly, feeling the fine craftsmanship against his rough hands. He pulled it up above his shoulder, and drowned out the world around him. It was just him and his spear and the dummy in front of him. He counted in his head, one, two, three, and threw it with all his might.

The spear flew straight through the dummy's heart, lodging it and itself in the wall behind it. The room fell silent as everyone stared at his accomplishment, but rather than accept their praise and glances of jealousy, he proceeded to throw from a farther distance. Soon he had thrown successfully from twelve, fifteen, even twenty yards away. He didn't stay at the station though. There were other things to excel at.

Mira's eyes followed him as he walked briskly to the edible plants station. She wished she could be half as confidant as he seemed to be. She was having a very difficult time starting a fire, even with matches. She knew she wouldn't last long in the Games, but this minor defeat seemed to make it more final. She was about to cast down her matches for good when the expert at that station finally seemed to notice her. He stopped her hands with his own, and said, "Do it like this; you look like you're trying to saw through a tree," with a laugh. Then he slowly demonstrated the movement. When she tried again, almost as if by a miracle, a small spark appeared. She let a small laugh escape her. She did it again and again, managing her fire. When she was sure she could do it consistently, she went to another station.

Seeing Gale was still at the edible plants station, she headed that way. She wasn't sure why, exactly. She just wanted to be near someone she knew. When she sat down though, he refused to meet her gaze. She didn't mind much; she wanted to learn what plants were edible. She knew this had saved Katniss in the previous Games, and Katniss had told her that sometimes this station could give a hint on what the arena would be like.

After a lifetime of forced labor at her father's grocery shop, she found with incredible joy that picking the edible choices out of the cluster of herbs and berries was second nature. She stayed at that station for a while, and then had lunch. She and Gale ended up sitting together, but didn't speak at all. The rest of the training flew by in such a matter. When they were finally allowed to go back to their quarters, Mira was exhausted.

She went straight to her room and flopped down onto her bed. The soft sheets felt nothing like home, but they brought comfort nonetheless. Seeing all the tributes together had jarred her, though she had been careful not to show her anxiety. They were all much bigger than she, save for the young ones.

Those poor ten and twelve-year-olds had seemed terrified, and barely able to manage any weapons. Her heart had swelled in pity for them as they tried to manage spears and bows and arrows and swords, most of which were larger than they were. A growing sense of injustice blossomed inside of her as she thought of the kinds of people who would subject children to this torture. They had hardly seen a decade of life, and it was about to be torn away from them.

So was her own life though, more like than not. Too soon, Effie was calling her to dinner, and she was forced up out of the soft bed. She walked slowly to the dining room. When she got there, Katniss and Peeta were eating side by side, and Gale was serving himself at the buffet table. She followed his lead, unaware of Katniss's eyes as they followed her movements.

Letting her mind race back through her extremely troubling and revealing conversation with Mira, Katniss ate her food silently; Peeta had long since given up his halfhearted attempts at small talk, seeing her mind was elsewhere. She didn't know what to make of the new development in their story. She wondered idly if it could give Mira any sort of angle to play off of. Maybe she could give voice to her troublesome past in the interview with Cesar Flickerman. Katniss doubted Mira would though. She had seen how hard it was for her to tell Peeta and herself.

Besides, she wasn't sure she wanted the girl's story to go public. It wouldn't help District 12's reputation any.

But if she was honest with herself, the real reason Katniss didn't want Mira's story told was that it might give her an advantage. An advantage over Gale. She wanted him to survive so badly, it was a physical ache.

Thinking of that also brought up other unpleasant feelings. How she felt about Peeta, for example. She didn't know if she felt the way he did. She wanted to, to some extent. Or, she wanted him to find love elsewhere. Because even if she did someday return his affection, she couldn't give him the type of love he deserved. She didn't want children, after all. But somehow she knew that Peeta did. He should, after all. He would make a wonderful father someday.

She looked over at the boy who, lately, had been figuring prominently in her thoughts. He was so kind, and good. Two things she couldn't be. She wondered idly what he saw in her, anyway. She would have thought he would lean more towards a girl like Mira...

The angry pit of jealousy that speared her stomach stopped her thought short. Troubled, she pushed the emotion down. Why should she be jealous if Peeta fell in love with Mira? Isn't that what she wanted? For him to find love elsewhere? Why, then, should her heart object to the mere thought of it?

It's because you love him, too, a small voice inside her suggested. The thought wasn't absurd, as she might have dismissed it in an earlier time. But how else could she explain her unruly gut feelings?

Frustrated with the tumult inside her, she angrily ate her food, hardly even tasting the succulent aromas before her. It wasn't until Gale sat down in front of her with an unmistakable air of smugness that she found her voice.

Haymitch found his before her though, as he said, "Well, I suppose it's safe to assume you weren't horrible. How about you sweetheart? Uncover any hidden talents?" Katniss ignored the annoyance that sprung up inside her at Haymitch's use of his term of endearment for her for someone else. It was pointless, shallow...

"I was awful. At first, at least. It took me about an hour to start a fire," Mira was saying unhappily.

"Well the whole training session didn't last an hour. What else did you do?" Peeta interjected.

"Well, I went to the edible plant station, and I wasn't bad at it. I guess that's the one good thing that came from growing up in my father's grocery." Everyone chuckled a little bit, although only Peeta and Katniss knew the extent to which that was true. "Oh, Katniss, I remember some of the plants there, and you said that maybe it could help figure out where the arena might be..." she trailed.

"Oh, yeah." She waited..."Well, what are they?" she said a little impatiently.

Mira proceeded to describe the plants in detail. Katniss recognized almost every one of them, either from home or from her time in the Games. She realized with a fierce joy that there would be woods in the arena. Woods were both her and Gale's salvation back home, and she knew they would be his in the coming weeks. For the first time, she felt hope.

Gale didn't miss the elated smile that flickered across Katniss's face as Mira told her the various plants. No one else said anything, so he inquired, "Well what does it mean?"

The smile came again, staying this time. "It means that there will be woods in the arena," she said. "Woods like the ones back home."

At first, there was nothing but silence around the table as everyone digested the news.

"You're sure?" Haymitch asked, always the skeptic.

"Almost positive. The plants Mira described to me rarely live elsewhere."

"Is this a really big deal?" Mira asked. Gale felt a slight prick of annoyance at her obvious ignorance, but he kept it to himself.

The table had fallen silent again, this time uncomfortably, because woods wouldn't help Mira much more than another landscape. She had no experience with them anyway.

"Well, um, it means that there will be a lot of familiar territory for Gale, at least, since he hunts in the woods back home. It will also make it easier for Katniss to make good decisions as a mentor, because she will be familiar with the terrain in a way the other mentors might not be," Peeta said carefully.

"So, it has nothing to do with me?" Mira asked.

"Not really, no. I mean, it will probably be easier to maneuver, and there will be plenty of food sources. But no, it doesn't give you any specific advantage." Katniss said.

"Well, alright then." Mira said. "I'm going back to my room for a while." As she walked past him, Gale noticed how much heavier her footsteps were in comparison to Katniss's. He could easily hear every tread as she walked away, while he had to strain to hear any sound Katniss might make at all.

The energy around the table relaxed after Mira had left. Effie wasn't there either, so the four of them were able to speak freely. Gale didn't pay much attention to the conversation, though. He stared surreptitiously at Katniss for the most part. He wanted to memorize her for the coming weeks, so that her image wouldn't fade from his mind in his last moments. Katniss believed that he would win, but he wasn't so optimistic.

No one ever mentioned it, but without Peeta's love for her being declared, neither of them would have survived, though Katniss probably would have gotten closer. Gale remembered how he had felt watching them. The black anger and jealousy he had felt as she kissed him over and over again. He had tried to convince himself that it wasn't true, but it was difficult, made even more so when he was around the "lovebirds" twenty-four/seven. It had been better when Katniss had come home. Their friendship had been estranged, but at least he hadn't had to deal with watching her love another, false as it may be.

He wanted to tell her how he felt, but she probably knew anyway. He wanted her to feel the same way, but the odds of that were slim at best. So he had made himself content with being one of the irreplaceable people in her life, just as she was in his.

He excused himself at some point during the night. When he looked at the clock in the hall, he was astonished to find that it was about eleven o'clock at night. He needed to get to bed.

As he walked by Mira's room, he thought he heard sobbing, but when he looked in, she was fast asleep, so he continued to his bed, oblivious of the overwhelming sadness in the next room.