Aftermath of the Games...

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The hovercraft that had originally brought the tributes to the arena was nearby. He watched as it extended a claw into the cave, gently picking up Lois’s body, bringing it out of the cave, and lifting it into the hovercraft.
It is amazing to me that NOW the Capitol and its inhabitants are being gentle...

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The darkened windows of the examination room acted as mirrors. Clark recoiled at the sight of the dirty, scruffy young man with a feral, hunted look in his eyes. His clothes were tattered and stained with blood — very little of it his. He had eleven days’ worth of beard growth — all of it grimy. His hair was filthy and matted, there were dark circles under his eyes, and his face was drawn with exhaustion. No wonder Mayson had been afraid of him. He barely recognized himself.
Ouch! Sleeping in trees, on the ground and in caves will do that to a person. Oh yes, doing all this while trying to stay alive ages a person.

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Clark knew that his parents and friends would be relieved that he was alive — but what they would think of him when he came home was hard to say. Would they welcome him home, or would his actions in the arena change what they thought of him? Would the Rasens be glad that he had come home, or would his presence remind them painfully of their own lost child? What about Rachel? She had promised to wait for him if he survived, but she had to have seen him with Lois. In a very short time, Lois had become his closest friend — he couldn’t allow himself to think of her in any other way. Rachel would have seen Lois hugging him comfortingly after he killed Lysander, would have seen them huddled together under the blanker for warmth the last night in the arena — and she would have seen Lois kiss him good-bye shortly before her death. How would Rachel view him now? Could he ever again feel the way about her that he once had?
He will be treated as an alien.

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“I think that’s a question you’ll find you’re asking yourself many times, now that you’re a victor. The world isn’t as black and white and clear cut as you might want to believe. In the future, you’ll undoubtedly find yourself making some hard choices in situations that have no easy answer.”
From here on out Clark, life will only get harder.

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Clark touched the spot where the tracker was located, pressing around it until it appeared as a small lump. Then he brought his arm up to his face, working awkwardly to remove the device with his teeth.
Desperate times call for desperate measures. But the doctor is right, just when you think you've seen everything....


Morgana

A writer's job is to think of new plots and create characters who stay with you long after the final page has been read. If that mission is accomplished than we have done what we set out to do, which is to entertain and hopefully educate.