chapter 3

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Silently he watched as the stylist assigned to District Twelve placed the small gold Mockingjay pin on the inside of her jacket. Her eyebrows creased as she registered just what the token was. It took a lot of persuasion to let her have the small pin but not much. He was the head Game Maker and had final say over the decisions regarding the games. So he let her have the small gold pin. It wouldn’t make a weapon and as for the bird itself he really did not see how it would cause a problem. She would probably lose it in the arena.

The stylist checked the small silver clock above the tributes head and motioned for her to stand on the platform. The glass cylinder came down and entrapped her. Her brave facade went away as fast as the cylinder trapped her as she frantically stared at her stylist as if looking for a way out and then she looked towards the door barely catching a glimpse of him as she rose up into the arena. He had made sure that there would be a bow and arrow placed in the arena but because it was an excellent weapon, it had to be placed near the Cornucopia.

It was in that moment he realised that he was afraid but he did not understand the reason. He wondered if it was because he had thought that she had seen him or her stylist. It wasn’t normal for the head game maker to make such an effort, especially with a tribute from a lower district. He knew it wasn’t decent for him to be worrying about her. This is the hunger games; survival is a skill that many of the tributes so unfairly lack.

It wasn’t long that the stylist spotted him.

“I think she has a real chance.” The stylist said, stopping in front of the game maker.

“Against the other twenty-three? It hardly seems likely.” He replied with a subtle laugh.

“She could do it. She did get an eleven.” Cinna said as he walked away, leaving the head Game Maker to his own thoughts. 

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