[Flowers] • The Hunger Games

Six

"Good morning." Asteria called, knocking lightly on Madge's already open door. Yesterday, she'd been given the silent treatment from both tributes. But she hadn't exactly put forth the effort, either. She thought it would be best to give them some time.

Madge gave her a look. An acknowledgment, almost. As she sat on the corner of her bed.

"Today is the last day of training. At the end of it, you'll be evaluated. And tonight they'll release the scores. They're on a scale from one to twelve. The higher the number, the better they think your odds are. Some sponsors only look at these scores since they don't want their money to go to waste. Some will bet on the tributes with the highest scores, not just the careers, for that same reason. Your score is important."

Madge didn't respond. She was brushing through her hair silently. Asteria noticed it was a rather simple wooden brush. Perhaps one that she'd managed to keep with her from back in district twelve.

Asteria came around the bed and sat beside her.

"You know what I thought, when you got reaped?" Asteria asked, gaining Madge's attention. "I thought: how unlucky. Here's this girl, never had to take out tesserae, never had to worry where her next meal was coming from, never had to fight just to live. She'll die in that arena."

Madge looked disheartened. As if she'd expected some more reassuring words from Asteria, and was completely let down.

"If you're in here to just make fun of me some more, I suggest you leave before I call for the avoxes." Madge mumbled, though the threat hardly seemed genuine.

"But..." Asteria added, sighing a bit as she watched Madge. "Then I met you. Talked to you. I think I've downplayed just how important your skillset is for these games. Speed, agility, forage. Your mother, I remember she was a nurse in the Seam. You probably have some medical knowledge you've been hiding. You know, 35% of all deaths in the arena are form completely avoidable reasons. Infection. Misidentified berries or mushrooms. Starvation. I have no doubt in my mind that, if you survive the first six hours, you'll be one of the end game tributes."

"You hardly act like it." Madge mumbled.

Asteria smiled a bit. "Gale doesn't have better odds than you. He has more measurable odds. I can work with strength, weaponry, stuff like that. Compare him to other victors. But I can't compare intelligence. It's so- broad. See, I was intelligent during my games by being convincing. But take another victor- Beetee Latier, from district 3- for example. He electrocuted the career pack and won his games by inventing something. There is no way to just win, Madge. No guarantee that if you do x, y, and z, you'll be the victor. It comes down to luck, to perseverance. To your ability to adapt. I ran the numbers, and I found that Gale is much more likely to win than you are. But predicted odds- they're nothing. The most unlikely tributes have been victors time and time again. Hell- Haymitch won a Quarter-Quell." Asteria let out a small laugh.

Madge let out a laugh, too.

"If you believe you can win, if your spirit is unbreakable and you want it badly enough- I see no reason why you can't." Asteria told her, genuinely. "I apologize for insinuating otherwise. I was...having an off day, and it shouldn't have been taken out on you."

"You're okay, Asteria." Madge nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. "You won your games by being logical, rational. It's all you know how to do. You were just trying to do that now. I know you didn't really mean it."

"Friends?" Asteria offered Madge her hands.

"Friends." Madge confirmed, laughing a bit as she shook her hand.