Thank you for taking the time to read! You are amazing! 

Post, comment, ask questions, make predictions. Tell me what you liked and disliked!! I'm all ears! 

Kindly vote if you enjoy!

Take care and stay safe!~ CANGEL

***

Scarlet Wolfe

     Scarlet woke up the next morning to the sun shining against her face. It seemed that the little blue pill Penelope had given to her and Crimson last night, had finally taken affect, because when she stretched her body along the cold hard expanse of the floor along the foot of her bed, not a single muscle of hers screamed or twinged in protest.

     The used muscles of her thighs tensed as she curled her toes but underneath the sleep that lingered in her body, making her limbs heavy, was a bursting energy thrumming through her veins.

     With a yawn, Scarlet pushed herself up from the floor, feeling surprisingly refreshed despite the few hours of sleep she'd managed. She glanced at the black screen of the television as she made her way to the bathroom.

     Her lips curled as last night's decision flickered through her mind. She would outshine the Capitol's darling and make herself unforgettable come the tribute interviews.

     But, she reminded herself, don't get ahead of yourself, Scarlet.

     Today was the second day of training for all the tributes and Scarlet had a very important task that she could not afford to be distracted from.

     Driving a wedge between the Careers and District 4 so wide that not even Crimson could bridge it was crucial to her survival inside of the Arena. If her brother wanted an alliance with all of them, then she needed to make sure he could only pick one side.

     Tomorrow would bring the Individual Training Assessment in which each tribute would be brought before the Gamemaker's and have their skills and abilities assessed. From that assessment, they would each be given a number. 1-12 with the higher number attributing greater skills and a greater chance of survival to that tribute.

     She had wanted to score an 8, which was already a nearly impossible goal, but if Scarlet truly wanted to outmatch Finnick and make a name for herself, then she would have to score a 9.

     If she wanted to make that a reality then she would have to do more than split the Careers up from District 4, she'd have to make sure that her own skills with weapons were impressive and on point. Yesterday, she had stayed away from the weapons, focusing on the survival skills, which might prove to have been a mistake on her end come time for the assessment tomorrow.

     However, there was nothing that she could do now about what she had already done yesterday.

     Now she'd have to hope that her skill with the carving tools and small sticks that she had practiced with back in District 14 would translate into actual skill with the perfectly crafted blades in the Training Center.

     After washing in the bathroom and getting dressed in an outfit similar to yesterdays, Scarlet headed out of her room and toward the dining room for breakfast.

     As she entered the room, her eyes met Crimson's for a moment. "You're up late." He commented. "Late night?"

     Scarlet shrugged, not wanting to divulge too much about her evening activities or cause his guard to be raised any higher than it already was. "Not particularly," she replied casually, moving to the empty seat of the breakfast table, helping herself to some fruit and toast. She glanced at the clock on the wall, her eyes widening slightly as she caught sight of the time. Ten minutes until ten.

     Well, shit. She had slept in far later than she had anticipated. She didn't even have Cassandra to blame as she had braided Scarlet's hair into one long rope before dinner the night before.

     When she looked back at her brother, she watched as he stuffed a piece of browned bread into his mouth. He glanced up at her. "See you down there."

     Crimson was gone from the room before she could give a response.

     Scarlet would be exerting a lot more energy today than she had yesterday, skipping breakfast in favor of getting down to the Training Center on time wasn't an option for her. She ate quickly but refused to leave the table hungry.

     As she left the table and walked to the elevator, she passed Penelope who was perched on the couch with a straight back and poised hands on her knees as she watched the television. Scarlet's arrival caught her attention and her sharp eyes and sour face landed on her.

     "What are you still doing here?" she asked, her mouth pursed in distaste.

     Scarlet refused to give in to the annoyance that flared through her and the urge to say something rude and cutting. Instead, Scarlet settled for a quiet murmur, "being the worm," before walking away without a backward glance.

***

     She thought that with time she would get used to the elevator, however, the only thing that she was getting used to was feeling as if she was two seconds away puking all over the clear crystal flooring.

     To soon, the elevator began to slow. Scarlet glanced up at the numbers above the door and saw the numbers that light up as they passed each floor. 6. 5. 4.

     She took a deep breath, trying to quell the rising sense of nausea as the elevator came to a halt. The sudden stop sent a jolt through her body, and she gripped the railing tightly to steady herself.

     "Come on, come one," she murmured, willing the elevator to start moving again. But the light remained fixed, and the door began to open.

     She turned her head to the side of the elevator, glaring at her reflection as the Goldenboy himself walked into the elevator. The scent of salt-water filled the air and as he moved to the back of the elevator, she felt heat radiate off of him. Was Finnick the freaking sun? How could anyone produce so much heat?

     Finnick pressed the button (B) for the basement floor. The floor where the Scarlet and the other tributes had entered the Training Center. Was that the only way to leave?

     Turning slightly, she faces forward, looking at the metal doors of the elevator. She didn't want to give him her back, especially when he refused to give her any space. A whole elevator for just the two of them, and Finnick stood only an inch away from her.

     "How's training going?"

     She reads his lips through the reflection of the metal doors and debates whether or not she should answer. Even if she did, it wasn't like she could be honest. Oh, hey, training is going well, just plotting to shorten your tributes lifespan. Have fun trying to keep them alive!

     But not answering felt like answering though. It felt like by not answering, she was admitting to him that it wasn't going well. Which wasn't true in the slightest.

     She turned towards him to respond when the elevator chose that moment to start moving. Her stomach flopped and lifted, and she pressed a hand to her stomach, hoping to calm the sensation. As far as Scarlet was concerned, elevators were a horrible invention, forcing her to endure this unease for others' convenience.

     "Motion-sickness?" Finnick asked, raising a brow.

     No, I'm pregnant. She glared up at him, resisting the urge to make a sarcastic comment. "What else could it be?"

     Finnick leaned down, looking her straight in the eyes. It is impossible to look away from his green gaze as his proximity made her heartbeat thrum and her skin prickle with anxiety. Scarlet fixed a mask upon her face, her lip curled upward as she pushed her discomfort aside, refusing to let him intimidate her.

     "Maybe you're just not cut out for the glamours life of someone in the Capitol," he teased, though his easy-going grin felt condescending. Fish-fodder. How easily he had made that assessment of her, based just by one glance across a large room. And now he was doing it again, after only two seconds in an elevator with her. "Not everyone can handle the pressure."

     Scarlet's jaw tightened. She wanted to snap back at him that not everyone could be as comfortable here as he seemed to be, but losing her temper would only prove his point. "I can handle it just fine," she finally said. "And I'm sure I'll get used to Capitol life once I come back from the Arena. As a Victor."

     Finnick's eyes sharpened, his grin widening. "We'll see about that, Little Wolf, won't we?"

     Little Wolf? "Just wait and watch," she muttered, irritation filling her. Still, he was belittling her.

     He held up his hand between them. Something white was held between his fingers. She eyed the grainy square and glanced back at him, raising a brow in silent question.

     "...mint. Helps to settle the stomach."

     Finnick popped a mint into his mouth.

     "You get motion-sickness?" She questioned, curiosity filling her and erasing the irritation as she took the mint from his hand and stuck it in her mouth. A cool burn spread throughout her mouth as she rolled the mint around with her tongue. She coughed as she sucked in a big breath of unexpected cold air.

     "No." Finnick chuckled softly, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he winked at her. "It just helps me stay extra sweet."

     She rolled her eyes. "Maybe you should stop eating mints." Scarlet said dryly, exasperation filling her with his endless charm. "Your sweet-talking is making me sick."

     Her words drew a seemingly genuine laugh from Finnick, his eyes twinkled. "Well, can't have that now, can we?" he quipped, his grin widening as he leaned back against the elevator wall.

     Scarlet couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration at his effortless charm. In that way, he was so much like Crimson. He always knew what to say to others. It was like he was born to be adored by everyone around him. She wondered for a moment if she had misjudged him as a fool. Maybe he was more like Crimson than she had originally assumed, always hiding his true intentions behind a charming smile and kind eyes.

     The elevator slowed and Scarlet turned forward, straightening her spine as the numbers lit up. 1. G. She pressed a hand to her stomach, prepared to feel the normal sickness that followed the starting and stopping of the elevator, but as the elevator came to a jarring stop, nothing happened. The mint had done exactly as Finnick had said and helped settle her stomach.

     Scarlet fought the urge to look over at Finnick as the elevator doors opened. Without looking back, she moved from the elevator, heading into the Training Center. She forced Finnick from her mind as Scarlet got her number pinned to her back. The second day of the Training was already underway, and Scarlet could not lose focus now.

***

     Once entering the Training Center, Scarlet moved towards the center of the room, straight for the hand-to-hand combat rings. They were currently empty, save for one instructor and a few assistants that lingered off to the side.

     She did a cursory glance around the room, noting that a few of the tributes were making their way over to the weapons training today, though a few stayed out of the way and in the survival training areas. The Careers, District 4, and Crimson were over by the weapons—no surprise there—but instead of practicing with the weapons they were standing by, they were mocking the others.

     Scarlet couldn't exactly say that she blamed them—the weak attempts at utilizing the weapons were disillusioning—at best, though if she was over there with the others, there was no doubt in her mind that they would mock her even though she at least, had some skill.

     As Scarlet walked up the steps to the hand-to-hand combat ring, the male instructor approached her, his eyes scanning her from head to toe, assessing her.

     "Do you want me to grab you an assistant?" he asked, his eyes were free of judgment despite her small size. Even if he had been judgmental, she wouldn't blame him. He was over a foot taller than her and built like a solid chunk of ice, with arms the size of her waist.

     He was intimidating and the thought of fighting him was daunting. But he was also bigger and stronger and likely more skilled than any tribute here. If she could learn how to hold her own against him, then it could make fighting the other tributes in the Arena just a little bit easier. And that could be the difference between life and death.

     She shook her head. "No." Without warning, Scarlet spun and delivered a kick to his unprotected stomach. Caught off guard, he stumbled back a step. She had the momentary satisfaction of success, before he recovered. His eyes lit up with the thrill of the fight looming before them.

     That single step back was the only one he took the entire hour that they sparred. They were both covered in sweat when they stopped. Her muscles shook from exerting herself so much, but pride filled her, energizing her tired body, even as she struggled to catch her breath.

     "Have you trained before?" The instructor asked.

     She shook her head instantly apprehensive. Training beforehand was against the rules.

     His eyes seemed to know that she was lying, but his mouth said nothing. After a tense moment he nodded, "you have great instincts. When you don't have enough time to learn forms and techniques, sometimes your instincts will be all that keep you alive inside that Arena."

     Scarlet nodded. "I'm small. I know if I let any of them grab me, I'll be done for."

     "Yeah, likely." He agreed, not trying to sugarcoat the truth. "But let's go through some positions and defensive movements that might buy you enough time to get that distance between you and your opponents if they manage to get close."

     "Okay." She quickly agreed, grabbing a quick drink of water that had been brought to her and the instructor by an assistant. With the small respite given, the instructor launched back into work, taking the time to put her in several different holds, sometimes standing behind her, or sometimes in front of her. For each instance, he gave her a way to break free though the first goal, as he kept reminding her, was to keep the distance between her and her opponent in the first place.

     Finally, the instructor stepped back, and Scarlet turned to face him. "Remember, it's not about strength in a fight. Every person has a weakness. Find it. Exploit it. And don't ever hesitate."

     Her lips curl, "I won't hesitate."

     He stares down at her for a moment, his eyes were dark and tired—not from the workout, but from...life? Scarlet recognized the look on his face in the old and weary citizens of District 14 who had resigned themselves to the bitter and desolate place they lived.

     "Don't be too shocked if it's harder than you thought." He said finally. "Even if you are only doing what you have too. Eventually, it will catch up...It always does."

***

     As Scarlet left the ring with his final words repeating through her head, she headed towards the weapons stations, grabbing a set of wicked sharp blades. She felt the weight of the metal blade in her hand, the cool metal sending a chill up her spine, even as her body relaxed. Standing at a distance from a target, with a small blade in hand was where she felt most comfortable.

     Scarlet glanced around the training area, noting the other tributes busy at their stations. Some were practicing archery, and others were honing their skills with swords and spears with the help of instructors. She saw the Careers and Crimson working close combat with swords and daggers against practice dummies and assistants while Roe and Loach worked on close combat with spears and nets, utilizing the technique that Finnick Odair had made popular after killing four tributes that way in his Hunger Games two years ago.

     Scarlet took her stance, feeling the weight of the small blade in her hand as she rolled it between her fingers. It was heavier than she was used to, and much more even weighted that the carving tools she'd used back home as its placeholder. She took a breath, shaking off the anxious nerves that filled her. And then she threw the blade. As she watched the dagger clatter to the ground near the target, her face burned, but she refused to give in to defeat and grabbed another blade from the table next to her.

     By the tenth blade clattering to the ground, Scarlet had yet to even land one on the target board, let alone with any accuracy. As she went to collect the fallen blades she noticed the eyes on her. She noticed the mocking looks and dismissive arrogance written on the faces of the Careers and District 4.

     She tried to push them from her mind, but it was harder than it should have been. She was good at throwing blades. She'd been counting on this skill. She didn't have time to learn a new one.

     As she set the pile of blades on the table, she took her stance once more only to be stopped by a presence to her left. She started to stand when she saw it was an instructor, but at their gesture to continue, that is exactly what she did. She threw the blade, watching once more as it clattered to the ground.

     She turned toward the instructor who smiled at her with keen eyes. "You are used to an unbalanced blade, correct?"

     "No. This is the first time I've thrown a blade." She lied.

     The instructor raised her brow but didn't argue. "This blade is District 2 quality, tribute. It's perfectly balanced and weighted to perform to users' highest capabilities. If you throw this like you would a stick, it will result in the type of performance you are showing. Here," she moved to the lane next to Scarlet, grabbing a blade from Scarlet's pile. "Watch me."

     Scarlet watched with care, eyeing the placement of her hand on the blade and the fluid movement in which she released it. The blade flew straight and true, embedding itself in the center of the target.

     "See how my grip is firm, but not too tight?" the instructor explained, retrieving another blade. "And notice the follow-through. Your hand should point to where you want the blade to go. It's about control and precision. Not strength. If you try to muscle this blade to the target, you will never get it there." The instructor handed the blade to Scarlet. "Now, you try."

     Taking a quick glance at the rest of the tributes, she saw that everyone was focused on their own training—even the Careers. Good. She wanted them to think she was weak—for the moment. Now that she had an instructor, she was sure that she would improve and take them by surprise with her skills when she was ready to confront them.

     Scarlet nodded, mimicking the instructor's stance and grip as she stood in her own lane. She took a deep breath, focusing on the target, and the way that she held the blade. Control and precision. She released the blade, watching it soar through the air for a moment, before sinking into the target, albeit not dead center.

     She turned to the instructor, who nodded her head approvingly. "Better. But you are still putting too much weight into throwing the blade and that is throwing you off target. Let the blade do the work for you."

      Trying again, Scarlet adjusted her technique, focusing on being the guide of the weapon and not the force behind it. With every throw, the dagger grew more and more familiar in her hand and her confidence bloomed. The instructor continued to provide guidance, offering subtle corrections and encouragement. Slowly, Scarlet became more consistent, landing in the center of the target, throw after throw.

     "Don't settle for good, tribute. Keep practicing." The instructor said, before giving Scarlet a final nod, and walking away.

     Scarlet kept working on her throwing until she had successfully landed all her daggers in the red center of the target twice. She was tempted to continue to stay here, where she knew she could excel, but she knew that it wasn't an option if she wanted to be successful in the Arena.

     The Gamemaker's would do anything to make the Games more interesting, and what could cause more chaos than taking away a tributes' favored weapon?

***

     The afternoon meal was served in a large dining room off to the side of the Training Center. The first day, most of the tributes had entered in a uniformed line even though it wasn't mandatory.

     Like yesterday, the rest of the tributes hung back by the door as the Careers got their first choice with the provided food. Her brother was there with them, though she noticed that he took care to stay out of their way, while District 4 hung back, clearly next in line to get their food, but clearly not quite a part of the Career Pack.

     She shook her head. If they hadn't been accepted into the alliance by now, then it wasn't likely to happen at all. Still, as soon as she found the right opening, Scarlet would enjoy ruining any remaining chance they had.

     While she wasn't particularly concerned about being first or last in the line to get her food, she refused to be lumped together with the other tributes who looked like scared little mice afraid of the Career cats.

     She pushed through the tributes, waiting by the door and approached the long table, overflowing with enough food to feed each of the tributes here three times over.

     Scarlet grabbed an empty plate and walked straight up to the small space between Augustus and Elixia, grabbing a roll from the grain basket and the apple from Augustus' plate.

     Balancing her plate with her one hand, Scarlet turned towards the District 1 tribute, looking up at his towering frame and the look of disbelief that shone on his face.

     "You don't mind, do you?" Scarlet asked with a laugh, as she turned away from him without waiting for an answer. She took a bite of the green apple, her face twisting as the sourness flooded her mouth and shocked her system. Weren't apples supposed to be sweet?

     A hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her to a stop. Scarlet twisted around on the heels of her tennis shoes. Exilia stood there, glaring down at her. "Actually, we do mind, little girl. And we've had enough of the whole 'I don't give a damn' façade you're putting on. You don't have the skills to survive long in the Arena. Everyone here knows it."

     Her fingers tightened around the edge of her plate, but Scarlet made sure that her smile never left her face. She would never let the tribute know how much her words had affected her.

     Remember your job.

     Piss them off. Make them hate you.

     With that in mind Scarlet shrugged, "Oh, okay then." She placed the partially eaten apple onto Elixia's plate and adopted an innocent expression on her face. "I didn't really like it anyways."

     Elixia's face contorts in fury as her hand tightens on Scarlet's shoulder. "You little—"

     Urban grabbed Elixia's shoulder, pulling her back. They share a glance before looking back at her. The grin he gives Scarlet is bloodthirsty and sends chills down her spine. "The little girl will get what's coming to her in the Arena."

     "I doubt it, but best of luck." She said as she winked at the both of them. Elixia's pretty face turned blotchy and red with her anger as Scarlet turned away from them as if she held little care for their presence.

     Scarlet is careful not to glance at any of the Careers as she makes her way around the table, piling her plate high with more food than she could eat in an entire day. And as she sits down at a table, she makes sure to sit with her back towards the Careers.

     She wanted them to see her unafraid of them.

     She wanted them to think that she was unbothered by their presence and unconcerned about their reputation or their skills.

    The truth was the complete opposite. She was afraid of them. She was intimidated by their presence. And she respected their skills and deadliness.

     That respect was the reason for all these games that she detested so much.

     She needed them to hate her.

     She wanted them desperate to kill her.

     Because desperate tributes made mistakes.

     Desperate tributes were vulnerable.

     Even Careers.

     Especially Careers. 

-----------------

I hope you enjoyed this! Let me know what you think! The skills that Scarlet is learning will be so critical to her chances of survival in the Arena. I think it's really important to take a good look at what she's focused on. She's trying to be smart about her time in the Training Center, balancing knowledge with skill with strategy. 

Well... Now you know that Scarlet's poor treatment isn't limited to Penelope or Finnick. She is now antagonizing the other tributes... Oh, Scarlet... why do you insist on making things as hard for yourself as possible???

Tell me your thoughts! I'm so curious to know what you think will happen!!

As always, take care and stay safe! ~CANGEL