CLOVE'S POV

We have vaccated the area in which we called camp. An alliance that was at one point five, is now composed of two. The two that really matter. I can't let my emotions get in the way of killing. Quite honestly I think my aim and senses have only been sharpened. The boy, who I love, the boy that I have always loved can be mine. He can really be mine.

With an orange backpack on me shoulders, Cato is right by my side.

"The cornucopia is the best, I know you don't believe so. But all the best games start and end in the starting zone." Cato says. I was hesitant on going back, but he has a point, all the games that are dictated as the so called best, have ended almost in the very spot that launched the game to begin with. So I led the way to where we stand now.

From the foliage, there in the opening, is the exact titanium cornucopia. It glistens, even under the sunset that has almost completely left the arena.

"You weren't planning on sleeping in the open were you?" I ask him. The two of us need each other. We are all the other one has, and if we don't win this as a team- we won't win period. If he died, and I was still a victor, I'd still feel just as shitty as the other tributes, who lost their lives in this game.

His laugh stops the outcome that is blossoming in my brain. "No."

His head looks up to the branches above us. With a gesture he says "Consider those our beds." I nod and scramble up the tree. That's one thing I could always do easily, and something that Cato had to actually try to become good it.

"Move!" Pault screamed in the small forest. It was my first time in the "training arena", Cato's too. When the boy screamed, I simply obeyed. I ran and ran faster. I could hear the thuds of the mutts. I didn't realize how realistic this day was going to be. Pault was beside Cato when the dogs came running. There was nowhere to hide;

I looked up to a tree branch, only ten feet off the ground. At a stand still, what do I? Climb? Can I even get down?

Pault was across the forest and saw me. "What are YOU DOING CLOVE? Run. RUN!" I obeyed, and scurried up the tree without faulty. Cato was at the base of the tree, looking for Pault who clearly abandoned him while "saving" me.

"CATO." I screamed down to him, he looked up and climbed. The mutts were called off, and Cato was almost to my branch. That was the first time Cato broke his collarbone. After that Pault and him trained continuously together. Pault was a boy that was four years older then me(which made him two years older than Cato)He stood about six three, two hundred and twenty pounds- someone to truly be feared. Everyone expected he was going to come home a victor; including my sister. They were the couple of the year. He even proposed to her before the reaping.. His green eyes were something I remember so clearly. The way they looked at her. Everyone in the District was planning a wedding for her and him.. Then there was his public death...

Cato is on the branch slightly below me. I hear him then.

"SHIT." I bend over to see his one hand smeared in a red fluid. He shoots his head towards mine.

"I'll be fine, just I put my hand into the trunk, must have been some sort of Capitol camera. Clearly we aren't supposed to know..."

"Well are you okay?" I notice it's the hand of his that is dominate in sword combat. He looks up to me, and I come down to his branch bed.

"Let me see." He reluctantly gives me his hand, the bleeding has somewhat stopped, but whatever protection there is over the Capitol's cameras definitely did a number to his hand. There's moss just to the right of the trunk, I grab some and use it as an absorbent. Cato is in pain though.

"I'll be fine. Just..."

"No, get down from the tree, we'll sleep below. No one wants to be near the starting zone.." He groans as a way to start an argument. However he listens and obliges.

Once on the ground, I grab his hand.

"Clove. I'm fine."

"Oh really?" I ask with an attitude, I press slightly on the wound. His face winces in pain.

"Yeah, I can tell you're just fine." I search through the orange bag and find nothing to help him, so I throw the bag a few yards away from me. Cato chuckles.

"Glad you find it funny." I say, and pull myself up to use the trunk as a backboard. The rest of the night I lie awake. Cato drifts off, and I don't mind. I can handle whatever, or whomever comes for me. I'm even brave enough to set a small fire, with the full night I am surrounded by thoughts. Mostly of Cato, two victors from one district. If one of us doesn't make it, I truly pity the person to be reconciled with.

CATO'S POV

I wake to a sound of footsteps, Clove has curled herself up with one of her arms drapped across me. It's funny how the unconcious mind will reach out in the dark. More footsteps sound. I slip from Clove and grab the sword. I can hear the faint sound of feet crunching leaves. Whoever it was is gone now. I turn around to see Clove sitting up staring at me. A knife is in her hand. She's getting ready to throw, and the thing with Clove is- she never misses a target.

The sun isn't up yet, so I probably look like a danger.

I speak quickly to her. "Clove." Her hand doesn't go down. "CLOVE. Clove, it's Cato." Her hand lowers and she's up to her feet. She throws a punch into my gut.

"Don't scare me like that! Damn it Cato, I could've killed you." Her voice slows down to repeat the last part. "I could. Have. Killed. You." Her hands go up to her temple and rub in small circles. She's still processing the thought.

"But you didn't." I tell her. I pull her down slowly. The two of us are back down on the ground, she curls into me.

"How's the hand?" It's the first time I've thought of it. I raise it up for closer inspection and clench a fist. Fuck! Fuck! Shit. It hurts. Our eyes meet. She grabs my hand to see. The gouged wound isn't bleeding, but I know that it's infected. And I know it's only going to get worse. The sponsors of ours are probably pissed. At least Brutus has to be. And he will withhold supplies as a lesson. He told us no star-crossed lovers. We haven't said anything, but I'm sure the Capitol has picked up the feed of our conversations. They surely know there are two pairs, not just one.