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Description
"There are quite a lot of tributes this year," A girl with short blonde hair pulled back in a purple headband commented to the male tribute beside her.

"That's quite an understatement," he replied.

They were in the train on their way to the Capitol, watching the scenery zip by outside the window.

"Just starting a conversation by beginning with a neutral topic that we both know something about."

"I'd hardly call it neutral, given our situation."

"Yes, I suppose you're right. It's not much of a pleasant prospect to think about, and would make for a stiflingly depressing conversation. Would you care to propose another topic? That is, if you'd like to speak at all. It's understandable if you don't," she said, her words having a clear, intelligent hue to them, almost like she was talking from a dictionary.

"No, not at all! The Games haven't quite begun yet, it would hardly do us much good to begin turning away possible allies already. We could watch the reapings for the other districts," he suggested.

"Already thinking strategically, I see. I approve."

"I was taught to survive from a young age."

They turned on the TV, flipping back so they could watch the reapings from the districts in order from when they took place earlier in the day.

Only a few of them make much of an impression at all. Most (usually the second boy or girl picked) were scared, trembling, or just plain in shock.

A few did stand out, however. Especially District 2, who all had formidable-looking tributes.

A short, yet cold and ruthless looking teenager, who stepped forward as a volunteer.

A wild, deviously smirking blonde, who practically sailed to the stage when her name was called.

A maniacally grinning girl with thick, stylish glasses, who strode to the stage with confidence. It was hard to tell if she was as visually impaired as she looked.

And lastly, the tribute wearing a baseball cap over his pale blonde hair and an emotionless expression on his face.

"He'll likely be trouble," Rose said to her companion, who nodded absently, staring intently at the screen.

There was another boy— one in District 11— who bore a striking resemblance to the boy from 2, right down to the shades obscuring much of his face and the blank expression. In comparison to the quietly crying boy beside him and the frightened faces of the two female tributes, he was an almost impressive sight.

A girl from District 7 made Rose's companion snicker as she lurched onto the stage, screamed something incoherently, then stumbled around a bit before gripping onto her escort for support and letting out a long, loud laugh.

They watched the District 12 tributes be selected— a very short, grungy looking boy who looked kind of like the other male tribute, but then again, almost everyone in District 12 looked similar— then turned off the television, the pristine Capitol glowing out the train's window. They would arrive shortly.

"What do you think?" she inquired, looking over to him.

He took a moment to ponder her question before answering, slowly.

"I think... well, the most exciting part of the Games is yet to begin."

Description
"There are quite a lot of tributes this year," A girl with short blonde hair pulled back in a purple headband commented to the male tribute beside her.

"That's quite an understatement," he replied.

They were in the train on their way to the Capitol, watching the scenery zip by outside the window.

"Just starting a conversation by beginning with a neutral topic that we both know something about."

"I'd hardly call it neutral, given our situation."

"Yes, I suppose you're right. It's not much of a pleasant prospect to think about, and would make for a stiflingly depressing conversation. Would you care to propose another topic? That is, if you'd like to speak at all. It's understandable if you don't," she said, her words having a clear, intelligent hue to them, almost like she was talking from a dictionary.

"No, not at all! The Games haven't quite begun yet, it would hardly do us much good to begin turning away possible allies already. We could watch the reapings for the other districts," he suggested.

"Already thinking strategically, I see. I approve."

"I was taught to survive from a young age."

They turned on the TV, flipping back so they could watch the reapings from the districts in order from when they took place earlier in the day.

Only a few of them make much of an impression at all. Most (usually the second boy or girl picked) were scared, trembling, or just plain in shock.

A few did stand out, however. Especially District 2, who all had formidable-looking tributes.

A short, yet cold and ruthless looking teenager, who stepped forward as a volunteer.

A wild, deviously smirking blonde, who practically sailed to the stage when her name was called.

A maniacally grinning girl with thick, stylish glasses, who strode to the stage with confidence. It was hard to tell if she was as visually impaired as she looked.

And lastly, the tribute wearing a baseball cap over his pale blonde hair and an emotionless expression on his face.

"He'll likely be trouble," Rose said to her companion, who nodded absently, staring intently at the screen.

There was another boy— one in District 11— who bore a striking resemblance to the boy from 2, right down to the shades obscuring much of his face and the blank expression. In comparison to the quietly crying boy beside him and the frightened faces of the two female tributes, he was an almost impressive sight.

A girl from District 7 made Rose's companion snicker as she lurched onto the stage, screamed something incoherently, then stumbled around a bit before gripping onto her escort for support and letting out a long, loud laugh.

They watched the District 12 tributes be selected— a very short, grungy looking boy who looked kind of like the other male tribute, but then again, almost everyone in District 12 looked similar— then turned off the television, the pristine Capitol glowing out the train's window. They would arrive shortly.

"What do you think?" she inquired, looking over to him.

He took a moment to ponder her question before answering, slowly.

"I think... well, the most exciting part of the Games is yet to begin."