Author: Thanks to wericdream for your myriad of reviews!

I spend the next three days of training both surveying the talents of my allies and exercising my muscles to try and build strength before the Games begin. Here is what I discover.

Coal was right that Seamus is strong. I watch him work at the fishing station, but Seamus eventually becomes frustrated with his lack of progress. What does he do about it? He picks up the table and throws it a couple of feet, nearly squashing the girl from District Three. I raise my eyebrows and Seamus glares at me. I look away, shifting my gaze to the weapons station.

There, Coal hacks a dummy with a pick axe. I watch until I get bored, but I learn that he's better at overhand swings than underhand ones, and that he's right-handed.

I turn to see Millie hard at work at the poisonous animals station. She's pretty good with things like that, and I wonder why. But later she tells me that snakes like to hunt in the wheat fields and it pays to know when to run and when to stay put. I guess that makes sense.

I watch Barley try to throw some knives. He always hits the target, but the knives often rotate in the air so that the part that hits is the handle or dull edge. He isn't very good at that. But later, when he somehow gets D.C. mad at him, I watch him shimmy up a metal pole like it's nothing. I find out later that Barley works in a peach orchard back in District 11, so he's used to climbing trees.

I also assess my enemies. D.C. has a petty temper that causes him to lash out on everyone, including his allies. Something tells me that Neptune won't appreciate that.

Dream hardly ever talks. And while she is good with weapons, she is bad at everything else. She seems bloodthirsty though, and that will make her dangerous enough.

Mascara is really no threat, despite the fact that she is from District One. My first assessment of her physical strength was correct: she has none. But her light form causes her to move more quietly than the others, and I wonder if humans would be able to hear her at all.

Sapphire is downright deadly; nearly as bad as Neptune. The District One boy can shoot a bow and arrow with lethal accuracy. He is agile and fast. But that's not all; he's smart. At the plants stations he can identify everything on the table by name within five minutes; he can sort them into helpful and harmful in under a minute. Between his plant knowledge and the hunting ability of two wolf-mutts, the Careers might be able to provide their own food this year.

Neptune glares at me when I try to watch him. He stops whatever he is doing especially to glare at me. That's no help, so I leave.

The thing that surprises me most is the thing that happens on the sixth day of training. Loyla walks over to me as I dangle upside-down from the exercise rings. I stare at her quizzically for a bit, and she places her hands on her hips and gives me a look that clearly says, "I'm waiting."

I right myself with a flip and disengage from the usage of the rings, staring back at her to convey, "I'm listening."

Loyla smirks and takes her left hand off of her hip, placing it on my right shoulder. She leans over and stretches onto her tiptoes in order to whisper into my ear. Her seductive tone forces me to bite my tongue. "Listen, District Six. Dream, Sapphire and I have been talking about you, and about Neptune. We figure that if Neptune is just going to kill us all in the end to win himself some glory, then we don't want to be around him. So, we have a proposal for you."

I swallow before managing to say in a somewhat shaky voice, "We? Well, how come you are the only one over here?"

Loyla stops and leans back to look me straight into the eyes. "Now Wolfgang," she says quietly, "we don't want you to feel like we're threatening you."

"Uh-huh," I grunt. "So what are you offering?"

Loyla grins and leans back in to whisper into my ear, some of her dark blonde hair falling onto my shoulder as she does this. "We want to team up with you."

I pull back slightly and stare at her in shock. Is she serious? Half of the Careers want to be my team members?

"But," she adds, eyeing my lips for some odd reason, "we'll only do this if you throw out those losers that you've petitioned. We do want to make it farther than the bloodbath, you see." This causes me to frown. She expects me to switch allies on the last possible day? But she just meets my eyes and grins. "What do you say, handsome? Do you want to seal it with a kiss?"

That's when my eyes widen, and I shove her away from me, backing away as I do. This has gone too far. She just doesn't get it, does she? She thinks that she can tempt me into this by basically promising to be my mate? I swallow fearfully because there's a large part of me that wants to accept readily; the animal part. But a smaller part of me says "no", and I know that that's the part I'll obey. It's always been the part I've obeyed; my human half, even though it is weaker, always wins. I swallow again, but this time it is in resolve. "No deal, Loyla," I growl.

She looks stricken and gasps, "Why not? I'm – We're better than them! Are you stupid?"

I smirk and shake my head. "No. I'm just more human than you are." And just like that, I walk away. And then the bell rings for lunch.

During lunch, I notice that Neptune glares at me and doesn't eat a thing. Seamus notices and speaks up. "What did you do to get him all in a knot?"

I shrug and look across the table at Seamus. "Existing," I answer.

After lunch, Neptune finds me getting in one last weapons practice. The last knife has just left my hand when he tackles me to the ground. "You son of a b*tch!" he growls at me, sounding rather feral. "You stay away from her, do you hear me?"

A couple of peacekeepers come over to try to put a stop to it, but they back off when Neptune morphs and bares his teeth at them. The District Four wolf-mutt looks back at me with a snarl.

I frown up at him. "Excuse me, but I'll have you know that my mother was a human." In an instant, I morph as well and shove him off of me. I hear gasps from the deck where the Gamemakers normally sit leisurely observing us, but I don't turn around.

"You stay away from her," he repeats.

"She came onto me, okay? And for your information, I told her that I didn't want any part of it. So get off my tail, mutt!" I snap back. I notice Coal staring at me, and I can feel several other pairs of eyes resting on my back. I just stare at Neptune and imagine how good it would feel to rip his ear off with my teeth. But I don't do it because I realize that I've started thinking of Neptune in the same way that I think of Ereed. He's an insufferable idiot that lives for himself and needs to learn a thing or two. But I know that I don't have to be the one to teach him a lesson. "If you expect loyalty from your allies, you'd better give them just the same," I spit. "You don't get anything for free in this world." I turn my back and walk away. Behind me, I hear a struggle as the peacekeepers try to get Neptune under control. When it goes quiet, I turn around in confusion to find Neptune passed out in one of the men's arms. The other man holds an empty syringe. I turn back around and suppress a smirk. They sedated him because he couldn't control himself. And while it's amusing now, I can only think one thing: There won't be any sedatives in the arena.

The seventh day of training consists of Ford and me getting a half-hour to work by ourselves in the training room. This time mostly consists of Ford complaining. "I don't know why I should be mentoring you when you won't listen to anything I say," he grunts. "You had an opportunity to team up with Districts 1, 2 and 4. And you threw it away! For what? For a group of dark horses! You must be insane."

I ignore him and practice throwing the spear and the knives. After that, I head over to the climbing ropes and start up one, imagining that this rope is the only thing keeping me from falling into a bottomless gorge. I make it to the top and rappel back down to the ground. Once I'm finished, I cross my arms over my chest and say to Ford, "Our time is up." Ford just grumbles something about me being a wild little trucker as we return to the suite.

The next day is the day we display our skills in front of the Gamemakers so that they can rate us. I wait patiently for my turn, and when my name is called, I get up and walk through the doors. "You may begin," one of them tells me.

I run quickly to the weapons rack and grab a multi-sheath of knives. I throw one after another into the hearts, throats, and armpits of the foam dummies. Then I grab a spear and hurl it at the target. It hits it dead-center. I turn to the Gamemakers and say, "I need something to chase."

"Excuse me?" asks the Gamekeeper, Cloys Nasser.

"I need a small animal to chase, like a squirrel or something."

One of the women stands up and pulls a ferret out of her long, poufy sleeve. "This is Oscar," she says with a smile. "I'll bring him out." She brings out the ferret and puts him on the floor before returning to the Gamemakers' deck. "Begin," she says.

I morph, and a few in my audience gasp. I quickly catch the ferret, and I'm disappointed that he doesn't make very good prey. He barely ran anywhere at all. I look back up at them. "Thanks, but this was kind of boring. He didn't even run."

Oscar's owner snuffs, "Of course not. Oscar loves people."

I give her a pointed look, and Cloys turns his head toward the side entrance of the deck. "What's that, chef? Okay." The Gamekeeper turns to me. "The chef says that he has a chicken that he plans on cooking during the rest of the viewings and serving us for dinner. It's still alive now. Would you prefer it?"

"May I?" I reply.

Cloys nods and signals them to bring the chicken out. An Avox brings out the bird, and I hand her the ferret, which she returns to its rightful owner. Then I turn my attention to the chicken and give chase. This time I am not disappointed. I get a good five minutes from the bird before finally capturing it. I hold the squawking animal by its neck and turn to the Gamemakers' deck. "Does the chef want me to kill it too?"

"YOU DID WHAT?" Ford hollers at me that evening. Octane wears a triumphant smirk while Helena stares at me like I'm some kind of animal… which I kind of am.

"I showed them what I could do," I reply. "Wasn't that the purpose for which this time was allotted?"

"You! You. You…" Ford starts, and fails to finish, three sentences.

Chortle laughs. "You chased around a chicken? Oh, I would have loved to see that! It would have been very amusing."

The television blares the anthem of Panem and then the scores are being televised. Gamekeeper Cloys Nasser announces each number. "Mascara Cash, District One, with a score of 7. Sapphire Jewel, District One, with a score of 9. Dream Arne, District Two, with a score of 8. D.C. Knight, District Two, with a score of 7. Jenny Gizmo, District Three, with a score of 1. Marcus Sprocket, District Three, with a score of 4.

Loyla Wolffe, District Four, with a score of 10. Neptune Scrod, District Four, with a score of 9."

I laugh because Loyla got a higher score than Neptune. Ford frowns at me and grumbles, "You see what you passed up on?"

Cloys continues. "Sparks Wire, District Five, with a score of 5. Atom Quark, District Five, with a score of 6." We all lean closer to the screen. We know we're next. "Octane Rev, District Six, with a score of 6." Octane pouts and Helena pats her back soothingly. Ford's eyes are locked on the screen.

When the Gamekeeper talks, it seems like the entire world has slowed down. "Wolfgang Canis… District Six… with a score of… 10." My rapidly-beating heart jumps into my throat. I scored higher than most of the Careers. I scored higher than Neptune. I scored the same as Loyla.

Cloys doesn't stop. "Timber Woode, District Seven, with a score of 7. Parchment Alexander, District Seven, with a score of 8." I realize that I have to start paying attention again to hear the scores of my allies. "Selkie Needle, District Eight, with a score of 5. Seamus Thread, District Eight, with a score of 8." Not bad, Seamus. "Millie Rice, District Nine, with a score of 7. Kenny Chaff, District Nine, with a score of 5." Okay. Millie's could be better. But I suppose that's fine. "Lila Shepherd, District Ten, with a score of 6. Reggie Hayfield, District Ten, with a score of 2. Persimmon Pricket, District Eleven, with a score of 5. Barley Reed, District Eleven, with a score of 7." Wow. That's pretty high, considering that he's only twelve. "Mace Mikels, District Twelve, with a score of 4. Coal Black, District Twelve, with a score of 9."

Ford voices my thoughts. "Nine? Nine! That District Twelve boy got a nine?" Then he looks at me. "I was wrong, Wolfgang. My bad."

Coal got the same score as Neptune. I just smile until I remember: The Seventh Quarter Quell starts tomorrow.

Author: Did you like this chapter? Do you like where my story is going? Do you like the idea of wolf-mutts? Are you excited for the Games to begin? If so, please let me know. Click on the review button below. The more feedback I get, the more I enjoy working on this story, the faster I post the new chapters.