Gale

Gale Hawthorne had been Reaped. Along with Fern Meadows, a fifteen-year-old girl with a cold sneer and frosty serpents' tongue, always quick to insult and judge.
At least they're safe for another year, Gale sighed to himself, flooded with relief at the thought of his siblings. Brooding in his room, he thought of his strategy. He was great with snares, and hunting. He could handle a crossbow, as well as a regular bow and arrows. He was strong, and knew how to hunt.
Humans would be no different.
As night fell outside, Effie knocked on his door. "Come on, supper's ready!"
He sighed, standing and striding to the door, sliding open at his touch.
Effie, Fern and their mentor, Haymitch, were just settling in for dinner.
"What's our strategy?" Gale asked Haymitch, easily pulling out his seat and sitting, grabbing a plate all in one move.
Haymitch waved away the question. "Woah, woah, woah, give me a minute, sport."
As their drunk mentor dipped chunks of beef in his wine, Effie almost daintily dabbed at her lips with a napkin and folded her hands in her lap. "Now, when we get to the Capitol, everyone will be watching. There will be the Chariot Ride, three days of training, your private sessions, your interviews, and then the morning of the Games."
"We know," Fern huffed. "They make us watch every year; we know how it works."
Gale ate in silence, lost in his thoughts. If he wanted to win, this cold, prideful girl beside him was one he was supposed to kill if he wanted to win.
Though he'd never admit it, he didn't want to kill anyone. No doubt if he had to, he would, but he wouldn't enjoy it.
After dinner, he sat watching the Reapings, checking out the competition.
Fern sat quietly beside him, until District 4 was shown.
A small, scared-looking girl was Reaped, and just as she reached the stage, a scuffle broke out between some Peacekeepers and an older girl.
"I volunteer!" She yelled out. "I volunteer as tribute!"
Their escort looked stunned, but she waved her forwards anyway, and the girl gently pushed the younger one away, back to the crowd.
Anya Sands, her name was. The little girl was one of two twins, her little sisters, all with matching blonde hair and hazel-grey eyes, and heavily freckled pale skin. Anya was thin and a bit lanky, but Gale watched her.
A young boy was Reaped as well.
Fern scoffed. "Too easy. That kid's good as done for, and the girl, if she helps him, will be an easy target."
But Gale was silent, watching the rest of the Reapings. Several tributes stuck out, but none so much as 4 did. He'd need an ally, and maybe, just maybe, a Career would team up with 12.

Finally in the Capitol, and Gale already hated it.
While 12 starved and slaved away, these people lived in flamboyance and luxury.
He'd been lucky to get a good stylist, and he wore an outfit that flickered with firelight, that they'd actually light on fire later, synthetic stuff that they'd guaranteed would draw the crowd.
Fern, of course, was dressed to match, and they waited by their team for the Chariot Ride to start.
Gale's eyes scanned the area, where he found a girl in a sea-blue dress, pearls in her hair, brushing a black mare. He recognized her as Anya. Making his way over, he watched her, lovingly brushing the horse's mane and flank, combat boots offsetting her dress slightly.
"District 4, fishing," he said, admiring her outfit. "Looks good."
She turned to him. "Thank God it's not another coalminers getup. I'm Anya."
"Gale. You like horses?"
She shrugged, the horse blinking big amber eyes at him. "We don't really have them in 4, but I wish we did."
The little boy from her district, wearing a light brown outfit decorated with netting and blue patterns, tugged on her arm.
"This is Ochre," Anya told Gale. "Ochre, this is Gale."
The boy swallowed thickly. "Hi," he muttered.
"I guess I'll see you in Training, then," she smiled to Gale, and the pair climbed into the chariot, as Effie shepherded Gale back to his own, moving off just as he leapt on.
It wasn't long, just a short ride to the Tribute Centre, where they'd spend the rest of their time until the day of the Games.
Their outfits flickered with the fake flames, crowds cheered their names, but he kept his face blank, Fern smirking.
When they made their way inside the Tribute Centre, Anya and Ochre were already gone, no doubt on their floor already.
"Come, come!" Effie chirped, leading them to an elevator. "As District 12, we get the top floor! Tomorrow, you'll have your first day of training, so it's straight to bed after dinner, got it?"
The elevator shot through the building, so much faster and smoother than the ones in 12. He allowed himself to admire it only a little.
After a quick dinner and a shower, Gale slipped into bed, thinking. Of 12, of his family, of Anya… Those thoughts lulled him to sleep.

Morning brought training, and Gale went immediately to archery.
He needed a bit more practice, and maybe using human-shaped targets would ease his uncertainty. He was good, but not incredible, and his reaction time needed work, so he spent a while shooting, focusing on the Games.
"Not bad, Gale," a voice laughed. Anya sat on a nearby railing, in an ocean-coloured outfit, much like his, but themed to her own district. She nodded. "You're pretty good at this."
He smiled back. "What about you? You much of a fighter?"
She chewed her lip, obviously debating whether or not to spill her secret, then glanced around. "I'll tell you later. Meet me on the roof tonight at ten, yeah?" "Got it," he nodded. "Come on, then, let me see your skills."
She rolled her eyes and gently pushed him aside, taking the bow and arrows. She was great, absolutely amazing, quick and accurate, hitting every bullseye. "Where'd you learn that?" He asked. "Fishing, using spears, tridents, all that stuff… You learn a thing or two," she winked, and set down the weapons. "I'm gonna check out the other stations, you coming?" She made her way to the edible plants station, her hair shining with the light from the ceiling.
Gale followed.