Day two of training begins with me trying to memorize more stuff at the edible plants station – again. Why can't I remember this stuff? But it seems that the male tribute from District Eleven – I think his name is Barley – has everything figured out. Of course he does. He's from the agriculture district, after all. Maybe he would be a good ally too. If I can't remember what plants are safe to eat, it would be good to have help. Then again, I'll probably be able to catch a lot of meat on my own and won't even need plants. But there's no guarantee that the arena will have prey either.

Barley catches me looking at him and frowns. He seems pretty tough for a twelve-year-old, so I decide to give it a try. I open my mouth, but he cuts me off. "If you think I'm going to team up with anyone, you're a dummy."

I blink, taken a little aback. "But," I stammer out my first thought, "you're only twelve."

He scowls at me. "Just 'cause I'm young doesn't mean I'm a weakling."

I smirk. "I know. Do you think I would have tried to ask you if I thought you would slow me down?"

He shoots me a skeptical glare with hard, brown eyes. I shrug. "It's your choice, I guess. I'll let you think about it for a while." And then I leave the plants station and head over to another one.

This station is all about first aid. While it doesn't teach the same things that the medicinal plants station does, it does teach things about how to care for yourself when injured. I learn about the usage of tourniquets and how to sew up a wound. Then they teach bandage tactics and how to keep an injury clean. It's not difficult to remember, as several small processes form a much larger whole. When I leave that station, I feel like I retained a decent amount of information.

I go over to the weapons station next. Mascara is shooting arrows at a target. Sapphire is hacking at a foam dummy with a sword. I walk over and grab a spear. I practice throwing that for a while, calculating the trajectories and altering the angle of my arm and the power with which I throw. Sometimes I hit somewhere on the target, other times I hit the bulls-eye, and sometimes I miss the target completely. But that's okay. I know what I'm doing. I'm figuring out which throws work, and which ones don't. I hear Mascara chuckle under her breath. The Careers probably think that I don't know what I'm doing. That's okay. Let them think it.

I put away the spear and try my hand with knives. While with the spear I had to use my whole body, knives are really more about flicking the wrist. It's more difficult for me to throw these with precision, as so much rests on such a small part of my body. If I'm even slightly off, I miss. But the good thing is that knives are light. It requires less power to throw them than it does the metal spear.

I'm still practicing when Barley walks over to me. I pause and turn to look at him, and that's when the bell rings. It's time for lunch.

Barley walks with me to the lunch table. I sit down across from Coal, and he looks up and gives a half wave. Barley sits down next to me, warily, glaring at Coal. Coal looks at Barley. "Who's this?"

I smile. "This is Barley, from District 11. He had something he wanted to tell me, but then the bell rang, so we waited." I turn to Barely. "Now what is it that you had to say?"

Barely glances from me to Coal and then back again. "I've been considering your offer," he drawls slowly.

"Have you?" I ask smugly. I knew that he would come around. "And what have you decided?"

Barley nods slowly. "I accept."

I grin. "I thought you might." Barley frowns, and I laugh.

Coal speaks up, "To what offer are we referring?"

I glance over at Coal. "Barley here has just agreed to be part of our little group."

Coal looks at Barley, then back to me. "Are you sure about this?"

"Now Coal," I admonish teasingly, "don't underestimate people. If I had done the same thing you're doing right now, I never would have teamed up with you. Remember, he may be from District Eleven, but they still have a better record of victors than your district does."

Coal grunts. "Winning isn't about numbers."

I smirk. "And what is age?"

Barley chuckles. "Hey, I think I like you, mutt."

I turn and grin at him. "Thanks. I don't get that a lot."

After lunch, I walk over to the fishing station. I'm trying to figure how to make a fish-hook. That's when Loyla waltzes over and leans onto the table. She picks up a metal hook and dangles it in front of her face, giving a low chuckle. "Hey District Six, do you want a free body piercing?"

"I'll pass," I reply.

She shrugs and puts the hook down. "I figured that you liked dangerous things. Districts 12 and 11? Those are some dangerous choices in allies." She leans over the table and in close to my face. She smells like the natural scent of sweat, and though this would make a human repulsed, she knows that I'm a wolf-mutt. She knows what we like. And I can guess that she is exploiting it.

"Not as dangerous as you," I reply.

She grins coyly. "I'm only dangerous when I'm your enemy."

I decide to try to pit her against her ally if I can. Planting a little strife among the Careers before entering the arena could only work in my favor. "Well, Loyla, I'm afraid that Neptune's already decided that I'm enemy material. Apparently I'm not allowed to defend myself when someone tries to kill me."

She gives a low, seductive chuckle. "Neptune doesn't control me. I can do what I want."

"I wasn't implying that he does. All I'm saying is that he sees me as a threat, so he doesn't want me anywhere near him… or anywhere near you."

"What do you mean by that?" she sounds defensive, and I smile.

"He's already marked his territory with you. I'm surprised that he hasn't tried to pee on you yet. He seems a little… feral. He's made it very clear that there's only room for one alpha male in his pack."

"His pack?" Loyla repeats, frowning. She backs away and puts her hands on her hips.

I nod. "It really lets you know who's he looking out for, doesn't it? He makes it sound like everything is all about him."

Loyla scoffs and crosses her arms over her chest before giving me a pointed look. "And you're sure about this? He doesn't behave that way around us at all. He wasn't just acting strange around you?"

I raise my hands. "People are always honest with their enemies because they don't care what they think of them. I know from experience."

Loyla looks skeptical, but then seems to remember something. She stares off into space and mouths the word, "Interview." She must be remembering what I said about Ereed. She looks up at me again. "I see," she says stoically. "Thanks, District Six. You've been a big help." She turns to walk off, but turns around right before leaving to say, "Just don't tell anyone that I said that." She smiles before walking over to Dream Arne at the camouflage station and tapping her on the shoulder. I smile to myself, happy with the work that I've done today.

The third day of training begins with me throwing knives and a spear, practicing my aim. When I realize that Dream is staring at me, I move onto another station. I don't want to get too comfortable with the Careers.

I end up at the edible plants station again. Barley comes over and quizzes me on poisonous berries. I miss twenty-five percent of them, and he chides that the difference between life and death lies in that percent. I feel kind of stupid, being reprimanded by a twelve-year-old, but I know that he's right.

I move on to the edible bug station. This is my first visit to this place, and the thought is a little bit gross. But again, there's no telling what the arena holds. So I lift a cockroach to my mouth and… down the hatch. Ick!

But this station has its good points too. Millie Rice stands there, pouring over the volumes of bugs. She grins at me and says nervously, "I'm kind of scared to eat one. I envy your courage." I struggle to keep from puffing my chest out in pride. The way to a wolf-mutt's heart is to compliment his courage. She points to the book. "It says here that you can eat any of them that are six legs and under."

This intrigues me. "So, the others are poisonous?"

She nods and points to a picture. "Look at this. It's called 'scorpion'. Do you see this tail?" She indicates the tail that curves menacingly over its back, and I nod. "According to this, it has a deadly sting and strikes with its tail."

"Interesting," I reply.

"It also says that they've been extinct for nearly two-hundred-and-fifty years. So, they probably won't be in the arena, right?" she asks fearfully.

I shrug. "Anything can be in that arena."

She winces. "I was afraid you'd say that."

That's when Seamus Thread, of District Eight, walks up to me. "I need to speak with you," he says in a voice that sounds more demanding than friendly. His blue-green eyes hold anger, and I wonder what it is that I've done to make him so irate.

"What about?" I ask.

Seamus' frown deepens. "That son of a b*tch, Neptune," he answers.

I laugh. It seems like Neptune has managed to get yet another tribute mad at him. And not only that, but since Neptune is half wolf-mutt, it is highly likely that his mother is an actual bitch, as in a she-wolf. "Alright," I tell Seamus. "What about him?"

"He's a pain in the thimble; a real needle-stick," he complains. I don't have to know District Eight slang to know that he's insulting him.

"I meant other than the obvious," I explain.

Seamus smirks. "I don't like him, and I hear that you don't either."

"You hear correctly," I reply.

Seamus nods. "The enemy of my enemy is my friend," he says.

"Welcome aboard," I hold out my hand to shake on it. Seamus takes my hand and shakes it firmly. "We'll see you at lunch."

"We?" Seamus asks

I nod. "Yes. I've already got two others on my team, but we won't leave out anyone who wants to help, if we think that they can help."

Seamus nods and grins slightly before leaving.

I turn back to Millie. "Any chance that I could get in on that, too?" she asks.

I stare at her, wide-eyed, and answer, "Of course." I catch myself before I start panting and add, "I've seen you swing a sickle. You're pretty good."

"Thanks," she says cheerily. She rolls up her sleeve and shows me a defined bicep, and I have to bite my tongue. She pokes the muscles and giggles. "Years of threshing," she teases.

"Great," I reply squeakily. I leave before I can embarrass myself.

At lunch, Coal seems happy to have Seamus aboard. Seamus seems happy that Millie is on the team. And Barley glares at everyone skeptically.

"So Seamus," Coal begins, "I've seen you practice. How did you get so strong?"

Seamus grins. "I'm one of the people who carry the rolls of carpets to the trucks. It's a long walk, and you can't drop the carpet, lest you get it dirty and cause a Capitol person to snub it." Coal laughs and makes a comment on the persnickety ways of the Capitol people.

Millie attempts to start a conversation with Barley about plants. Barley ignores her. And I just sit and survey the socialization of my pack. It's important that we learn to get along over the next few days. Our lives depend on it.