Chapter Six: Call it Bonding

"I'm thinking we should head over to the spears first," Cato says. I nod – why complain about going to train with my best weapon? Zen remains silent, and the three of us mutely walk over to the spear area.

There are two other tributes there already – I'm not sure what district they're from, but they're so miniscule that I doubt either of them will make it past the first day of fighting once the Games begin.

Cato saunters over to the two tributes, glowering. "It's funny. We're here… and yet you're also here. See the problem?"

The small girl trembles. "We… we were just leaving." She casts a frightened glance at her district partner, and they scamper off.

I snicker, and even Zen manages a small smirk. "Nice."

Cato nods in acknowledgement. "The best way to gain an advantage before the Games is to scare the hell out of them, right?"

I nod appreciatively. "Very true."

We each grab a spear without saying anything more and spread out in front of the targets. By some sort of silent agreement, we all throw the weapons at once – my spear whistles as it sails past my ear.

I'd guess we're standing about fifteen, maybe twenty yards from our dummies. Cato has managed to skewer his right through the heart, which, though I hate to admit it, is impressive. I've impaled my dummy through its upper thigh – it would be a fatal wound – and Zen has hit his on the shoulder.

Not too bad, I think. A kill is a kill, and with a wound where my spear has landed… the target would be dead in a matter of minutes, if that long.

We spend the next hour or so continuing to throw the spears. It does get dull after a while, but part of me likes the repetition. It's familiar, at least, something I know how to do mindlessly.

The real fun happens when other tributes show up at this station. When another small tribute starts heading towards us, trying to be discreet, I feel a small smirk cross my face.

"Mind if I take this one?" I ask Cato jokingly.

He nods, acting surprisingly good-natured. "Be my guest."

I grin. "Thanks."

The tribute doesn't say a word when he makes it to us, just picks up a spear and stands about ten yards from his target. I watch as he heaves the spear forward, and scoff to myself as the spear falls short.

I grasp my own spear tightly and fling it towards the small child's target, grinning as it pierces the dummy's stomach. The kid whirls around, shocked to see that I'm standing just a few feet behind him.

"Scram," I advise him. "Unless you'd like to be next? Your choice – choose wisely."

Cato is roaring with laughter when I return. "Pretty good," he crows. "Though it doesn't beat what Clove did earlier."

"Nothing will," I sigh. "None of us can live up to that. Hate to say it, but damn, that girl is handy with a knife."

"She sure is," Cato agrees. I catch a glimpse of a silly smile crossing his face, but then it's gone, so quickly I wonder if I imagined it. I roll my eyes – is there a worse place in the world to fall for someone?

Idiot.

When another tiny tribute shows up, a girl this time, Cato and I both look at Zen questioningly. He nods, and I lean back on the wall to observe.

Zen doesn't move.

I raise an eyebrow. What's he doing? The girl has chosen a spear and is walking quickly towards the nearest target. And still, Zen does nothing.

What the hell? I'm about to ask Zen what his problem is when the girl falters just as she's about to throws her spear – her eyes dart to Zen and then quickly back away. That's when I notice the flat expression in his eyes as he glowers at her. It seems that this is enough to scare her out of her wits, because she's lost focus, and when she throws the spear, it barely grazes the dummy's arm.

The girl looks over at Zen again – he hasn't moved, just continues to gaze at her furiously. Apparently frightened, she glances at her fallen spear and scurries away, unable to take the pressure.

I snort with laughter. "Nice one."

Zen actually laughs. "That was fun. This is way better than this morning, actually. I was getting so sick of Shell."

"There's no way she's as bad as Glimmer," I mutter.

We look at Cato, expecting him to insert some scathing comment about Clove as well, but he just shrugs. "I'm going to go throw around the spears some more," he says in an attempt to clear up the awkward silence that has descended upon us. I nod, and he walks a short distance away.

"Trust me, Shell's a nightmare," Zen says to me once Cato's distracted. "The girl doesn't know her limits. She won't ever admit to being wrong, she doesn't think she ever needs help… it's infuriating."

I frown. "Why do you care?"

Zen sighs. "Well… she's actually my cousin."

I raise my eyebrows, surprised. "And you volunteered anyway?"

He clenches his teeth. "I didn't know she was going to volunteer this year, and by the time I did, it was too late. Things are different in District Four. The volunteers are decided before the reaping, but the girls don't find out who the volunteer for the boys will be, and the same thing is true the other way around. I wouldn't have tried out for the spot otherwise."

I nod slowly. "That sucks, man."

He shrugs. "Could be worse. I don't really know her all that well, but she's still family. And hey, at least I'm not Cato, right?"

I snort. "You've noticed that too?"

Zen laughs quietly. "I think we all have, 'cept Clove, obviously. He won't do anything, though. It's the Hunger Games – what does he expect to happen? They're both going to end up dead anyway."

"Very true," I mutter. "I'm so glad not to be him."

"Agreed," he scowls. "What a dumbass."

I snicker. "Most definitely."

We throw our spears in silence for another half hour. After giving a dummy three consecutive head wounds, I'm ready to move on. "There's not very long left in training. Maybe we should head somewhere else."

Cato shrugs. "Sure. I'm thinking machetes."

Zen and I agree, and we spend the next hour sparring with the trainers at the machete station. Cato is able to easily defeat his opponent, and while I have to put in a bit more effort, I'm eventually able to knock the trainer I'm fighting off his feet.

Zen seems to be intentionally irritating Cato, though. After that comment at lunch earlier, Cato still seems slightly annoyed – not that I can completely blame him. It's just the small jabs Zen makes, ranging from insulting District Two to teasing him about Clove, that seem to bug Cato to no end. I don't know why Zen won't give it a rest – he continues to provoke Cato until Cato finally tells him to shut the hell up and fixes him with a menacing glare. After that, we're all quiet.

Before we finish with the machetes, it's announced that training is over for the day. Clove is there immediately, grabbing Cato's arm, and they disappear right away. I sigh and head over to where Glimmer and Shell are waiting.

"Ready to go?" I ask Glimmer, and she nods. Not speaking, we walk to the elevator and return to District One's floor, ready to discuss training with Star and Jasper.

Right, so this is a bit of a filler chapter, but fun to write anyway. It didn't turn out quite how I thought, so Marvel will find out District Four's plan in the next chapter... when that will be posted will depend on you guys.

I know I didn't post a chapter last week, and I had a few different reasons. For one thing, I was really busy. I had to go work on a school project, which took the better part of the day, and I didn't have time to get anything written. But honestly, I didn't feel guilty. Because for the previous chapter, I'd only gotten one review by the time Sunday came around again. So... my motivation was gone. And it sucked, because I worked really hard on the last chapter and got almost no feedback.

If there aren't more reviews for this chapter, it's going to be two weeks before the next update instead of one. This isn't an empty threat. I could use the extra time to work on some original stories. So if you want to read the next chapter... please review. You don't even have to have an account, and it'll only take a few second. Review. Please.

~What the Quell