Wings of Fire Hunger Games crossover!

Hey guys! So, obviously, there's gonna be gore, and mature content, so you have been warned! I try to add to this every once in a while, so if you like it there's more coming. The tribes of wings of fire, including the Plantala ones, are separated into districts, except for the Hivewings, they are the capitol people. sooo here's the set up:
District One: Nightwings (Work the power house)
District Two: Sandwings (Medicine and healing supplies)
District Three: Skywings (Miners for coal and gemstones) 
District Four: Icewings (Make carvings and decorations) 
District Six: Seawings (Harvest pearls, and hunt sea food)
District Seven: Mudwings (Main hunters)
District Eight: Rainwings (Fruits and Vegetables)
District Nine: Silkwings (Clothing and Thread)
District Ten: Leafwings (Wood and construction)
==== Chapter One: The Reaping (Newt) ====
Safe. Safe in his mud puddle. Newt new he couldn't stay here forever, but the rest of the world felt so far away. Here, squished between his siblings. He was the smallest of them, tucked securely between His sisters, and his older brother. 
Talons closed around his tail and he was yanked into the moist swamp. 
"You overslept" A voice lined with teeth said. Newt always dreaded his bigwings, Sienna, A snappy, impatient, power-hungry, Mudwing. Sienna hoisted his other sibs out of the muck, and began her usual rant.
"You lazy snoring toads! Do you want to be whipped? We have to hunt exactly five rabbits, six foxes, and three moose!" She paused to glower down at them, like she was daring one of them to speak up. "Heron and Fawn you hunt in the glades, Newt, we will hunt in the valley." 
And then without waiting for a response, she launched her self in the sky.
A passing group of Mudwings cast an "How impolite" look at him and his sibs.
Newt had to pump his wings quickly to keep her insight, he new she wouldn't stop to wait for him. Sometimes he wondered if she would really mind if he got lost. After all, he was the scrawniest of his unit, and he would be one less thing to worry about.
When he finally collapsed in the valley, Sienna already had a small stack of rabbits. Luckily for him, Sienna was too busy squabbling with a moose to snap at him.
They hunted restlessly till midday, but only because they had to stop, if it weren't for what today was...
"You actually forgot the Reaping is today?" Heron echoed when they shuffled into the main square in a sea of brown dragons.
"Oh, of course he did," Fawn said in her sympathetic baby voice that made Newt feel a stirring of rage inside him. "His name is only in the drawing twice." 
Newt's unit was luckily mid-class, they were never lacking food. Yes, their burrow was not the best, but it had four walls and a roof, which was more than some units could dream of. His mind wandered back to the burrow. 
The home he had shared with his sibs since they moved out of the hatchery. The bland meals they shared, that somehow had flavor when he ate with all his sibs. which was a rare thing as Sienna was often gone. Bigwings always had more work then the rest of the unit. 
"Next" A Hivewing dressed in chrome armor demanded. Newt held out his wrist and the Hivewing stabbed a needle into a vein to extract his blood. Newt took his place in his age group and turned his eyes to the stage. Lady Aphidae was in a golden headdress, and rubys embedded above her artificial colored eyes. Her headdress veil was draped around her four wings, and glimmered when she turned to face the crowed.
"Greetings district seven and happy Hunger Games! This will be our 136th Games, and it has come once again to select one male, and one female tribute to compete in the games, now as always, ladies first!" Lady Aphidae said in her shrilly capital accent. She moved over to the marble pedestal labeled 'Girls' and plucked a slip of paper from the vase, "Gazelle of unit 23".
Gazelle was a ambitious 17 year old who was one of the very few who wanted to be chosen, she was part of a wealthy unit, so she had more free time for training for this stuff. Gazelle separated from the crowd and trotted up to the stage to stand next to Aphidae wearing a confident expression, but her quivering talons betrayed her true feelings. 
"Any volunteers?" dead silence, "Excellent, now the boys." As Lady Aphidae reached the bowl, Newt felt a sudden dread and panic deep in his chest. "Heron of unit 46" Her voice rang out clear and cold. 
==== Chapter Two: Welcome to the Capitol (Heron) ====
Things moved in a blur. He was forced on to the stage, he was frozen in his mind. All he could do was stare, and watch his siblings horrified faces, though Aphidae was speaking, he could not hear her words. He heard a shriek somewhere in the crowd, and he caught a glimpse of Sienna tackling a guard. 
Before he new it he was being shoved onto a train, and his sibs and his home whisked away in a puff of steam. When he turned away from the window, he realized with a jolt a chocolate brown Mudwing had been staring at him the whole time, her face was an emotionless shield. He did an awkward jumping spasm to get farther from her, but he tripped over his own claws, making him look like an idiot. 
"Don't worry, I can't kill you yet..." The chocolate Mudwing said in a soft voice. Oh! I'm so stupid, thats Gazelle the female tribute! Heron stood up straight, hoping to look intimidating, She's looking for my weaknesses already, I have to hold myself together if I want any sponsors! Gazelle studied him a few more seconds, then said,
"Our trainers want to see us," 
"Oh, right, I thought so," Heron said quickly, but he let Gazelle take the lead, as he had no idea where he should go.
She lead him to a dinning area, the delicious smell of exotic food wafting around his nose, a feast waiting to be devoured on silver plates. Mashed potatoes, a thick creamy stew, a mountain of glistening fruit, a whole roasted boar, and other foods he had never seen before. 
"So, this is what the capitol gives me to train, eh?" A creaky elderly male Mudwing said from one of the velvet chairs. 
"Doubt they'll make it past the blood bath," Said an adult female Mudwing also seated at the table. "Well go on, enjoy the food while it lasts." She gestured toward two empty seats. This must be Swamp and Chestnut, they're two of the three Mudwing victors still alive.
He and Gazelle sat down on the empty seats and started to pile food on to their plates. 
"Shouldn't there be three of you?" Gazelle asked while taking a knife and casually spinning it around her talons. 
"What'd did she say?" Swamp bellowed. 
Chestnut gave an impatient huff, "Auburn is always late, the last tribute died because she was off fraternizing with the Hivewings and-" She cut off as a burn't red-brown dragon decorated in ruby necklaces and a golden tail band. bustled in and hastily sat down at the table. 
"Didn't miss anything did I?" Auburn said in a clearly fake capitol accent. Auburn glanced at him, "What...interesting tributes we have this year..." She trailed off, clearly disappointed. Heron was painfully reminded he was just an average Mudwing, nothing special about him, despite how much he craved to be important, Chestnut is right, I'm not gonna make it far in the arena. 
"I want to start training as soon as possible," Gazelle spoke up. 
"That starts at the capitol, silly dragonet, besides, you have to get dressed for your entrance!" Auburn paused study them, "Anaxphia! Caddis!" Two Hivewings, one bright sparkling golden one, and a handsome honey yellow one, burst into the dinning car. "Start planning their costumes, these two look so bland they'll need something really distracting if they want any sponsors." 
"Hello, I'm Anaxphia your stylist, but call me Anax, whats your name?" The Honey-Hivewing addressed him in a friendly, charming tone. 
"H-Heron, my name's Heron," He stammered, meeting Anaxphia's emerald green eyes, which shown glints of gold. 
"Well tell me something about yourself, I want to reflect your personality in your costume," He said. No one had ever asked Heron about himself-No, don't get excited, he's only doing it because its his job. 
"Well, I have three siblings, and we're middle class hunters..." Heron wished he had something interesting to say, something he was good at, but it wouldn't come to him. 
Somehow, Anax was able to chat with him for hours, though it felt like mere seconds till they reached the capitol, and he was reluctantly dragged away from Anaxphia. 
"Well, Heron, I'll see you tomorrow, with your outfit ready, have a nice night!" Anax bid him goodbye, and was gone too soon, in another blur. 
==== Chapter Three: A Forbidden Feeling (Anaxphia) ====
He drummed his talons against his desk lost in thought. Heron's golden-brown scales would blend well with a sunset theme, district seven was also known for it's glorious sunsets. Anax added a veil that would flicker between orange and amber shades and wound it around the wings and neck of the model. He rubbed his eyes. The sky outside his cell was dark but the ground danced with lights life. what time was it? 
He stepped back to admire his work. The Mudwing replica was wearing several semi-translucent orange-pink tail bands, golden wrist cuffs with garnets embedded in them, a copper chest plate, and a small crown with jasper beads dangling off the sides. It was sure to catch the crowds attention, though, it would not be very comfortable. 
Oh well, I'd better get to rest. He turned off the lights and left his workshop, crawled under his silk bed sheets, and dropped into a dream.
He was watching this Hunger Games in his living room, Heron was on screen. He was trying to start a fire, he was in terrible shape, dirty, starving, covered in cuts. Anax felt stabs of sympathy and an odd urge to break into the arena and save him. Heron eventually got warm enough to start a fire, but then Anaxphia saw a glint of eyes behind Heron in the shadowy trees. "Heron look out!" He blurted at the screen. But it was too late, the hidden monster lunged out of the darkness, easily pinning Heron onto his back, his tender underbelly exposed. Heron jabbed the attacker with his hind legs and leapt into the thundering sky, pumping his wings frantically-No! Go down your too high! 
CRACK!
Heron hit the force field, and his body sailed down and hit the earth with a bone shattering thud. Blood gushed from his limp, charred body, and the cannon sounded.
Anaxphia woke panting in a pool of sweat. It was just a dream-err nightmare I guess, none of it happened. There was another thud, and then another. Anax groaned and got out of bed, to find Caddis dashing around his living room. 
No sense of privacy that dragon.
"Oh there you are! come come! we are having lunch with the tributes!" She said in her shrilly high pitched voice. Anax grunted and pulled on a emerald studded collar and followed Caddis into the elevator. "I spent all night finishing Gazelle's outfit, and I must say, its stunning! I do hope you've finished Heron's haven't you?" 
"Oh yes, yes, its ready." He assured her. 
The elevator dinged, and they stepped out. Heron, Gazelle, Swamp, Auburn, and Chestnut were already seated, and a Seawing Avox was serving them lunch. Guess I slept in longer then I should have. He sat down opposite of Heron, whom looked as if he had had a rough night as well.
The conversation was dull, Gazelle was listening intently as Chestnut yapped on and on about how she took out the career pack by replacing their food storage with Nightlock berries. His gaze wandered around the room, occasionally catching on something sparkly, when he felt Heron staring at him with those warm golden eyes. How can this sweet dragon survive the dreadful arena? He flinched from his own thoughts. Why did he care? He never felt like this, caring about the dragons who went into the arena. Maybe a bit of sympathy, but were they not just things to dress up and use to boost his reputation? How is Heron so different? 
"Oh my, look at the time!" Caddis exclaimed, "Better start getting changed!" Anaxphia took Heron's wrist and gently lead him to the spa and make up department. At some point while they were walking, his hand slipped into Herons, which earned an eye brow raised when the rest of his crew saw them enter. It was not popular when the Capitol dragons mingled, or associated with others from the districts. 
Heron pulled away blushing, and Anax couldn't help but want to shut out the rest of the world and bring Heron's warmth back. Yet he restrained himself, there was too many eyes, and he valued his reputation with these dragons. 
Odonata, Thrip, and Neoptera, his assistants, took Heron away to polish his scales and add the basic highlights, while he added his final touches to the costume. 
When Heron came out, he could feel heat rising in his face. His scales replicated a perfect shade of hickory, his talons were shaped like crescent moons, with bronze nail polish that complemented his scale color, his head and neck had curvy lines the same shade of the nail polish that wrapped around him like vines. 
Heron gave a tentative smile, "I look ridiculous don't I?" 
"N-no not at all-" Anaxphia stuttered trying to regain his breath.
"We have a time limit Anaxphia!" Neoptera snapped, She didn't want to get assigned to this district, she signed up to do the Silkwings... 
Anax nodded, and began to clip the headdress onto Heron and wined it around his wings. The rest of the dressing went on smoothly, Odonata was chatting about the previous Mudwing tributes. Anax found it rude how she kept comparing Heron to the other tribute, sizing up their strength, what weponds they preferred, but Heron would politely nod and listened actively as Odonata jabbered on.
It was done. And it was stunning. Heron was up on the chariot with Gazelle, He looked nauseous. As He, the other stylists, and the mentors wished them good luck, and left to take their place in the audience, he lingered behind. Heron clutched his hand.
"What do I do?" He whispered frightently. 
Anax reached up to brush his face. "Stand up, smile, and shine" He said in a smooth feathery voice, "Just tune them out, it will be over soon".
==== Chapter Four: (Gazelle) ====
I took everything for granted; My family, my home, my life-I always wanted what I didn't have. Now look where I am now. My craving for more is going to be the death of me.
Crowds of pampered Hivewings fling out their arms and wings, cheering, screaming and demanding blood, they bet on how long we live and who dies, the real key to the games is these dragons, because in the end, it doesn't matter how strong you are, or how weak you really are, its all just acting. If only she known that all those extra ours spent spearing dummies was practically wasted. Training to mask emotions-now I must relearn it all.
The cheers faded away and the one these revolting dragons crowned "President" was speaking.
Gazelle tuned him out-You aren't worth two slime balls. Instead she scoped out the other tributes, the Icewings looked the most threatening, the female especially, dressed in a navy blue tight outfit that outlined every muscle. The Leafwings also appeared especially menacing, there were rips and tears in their costume, she couldn't even tell if that was intentional, or if the Leafwings were so bold as to put up a fight.
President Phasmid wrapped up her speech and the carts did a final loop, and exited. 
Now that there wasn't so much noise, Gazelle could hear the rapid breathing Heron was making, what a weakling. Back at the station, Caddis and Anaxphia were waiting. Anaxphia helped Heron down from the chariot and wrapped him in his wings. She rolled her eyes, romantic stuff always made her uncomfortable. 
Caddis was fussing over how she showed no expression and looked like a statue the whole time, but she pushed her comments into the background. She walked around them, up the stairs and ordered a guard to lead her back to the tributes apartments. Gazelle threw herself on the ridiculously large and cushioned bed, tearing of the costume in the process. 
The next few days were, (no, she was NOT exaggerating) the most boring 36 hours of her life, wake up, learn a few tricks, like spearing a fish, or a simple knot, dinner, sleep. But finally, it was time for the private testing. 
The waiting room was rather dull compared to the rest of the main hive she had seen, it was white, with a few glowing yellow hexagons and firm chairs.
A voice came over the speaker, "Heron of district seven"
Heron got up from his seat, hesitated, then dashed out the door to the training pit. Now it was just her, and the Rainwing, Silkwing, and Leafwing tributes. Gazelle was 75% sure that the Rainwings and Leafwings already had some kind of alliance. 
Well two can play at that game. She turned to the orange Silkwing next to her, "These capitol dragons are revolting," 
The orange dragon cracked a wicked smile, "Yes they are, it would be such a shame if one of the stylists were, well, lets just say poisoned." 
"They deserve it, but it would be more satisfying to spear them in the head." Gazelle said with ease, she knew how to talk like this, hinting at their strengths, she knew this dragon would be dangerous in the arena. Most tribes underestimated Silkwings, she would not make that mistake. "Though the best option would be a poisoned weapon." 
"I agree, my partner is a expert on long range weapons, he would be a good addition as well." the Silkwing said. So I have my team now, prefect. "I didn't catch your name, I'm Apollo." 
The other Silkwing tribute was wingless, he was a dark shade of green with radiant highlights of yellow. It reminded her of leafs filtering sunlight. Doubt whispered in the back of her head, surely teaming up with a wingless would not be wise. Despite her uncertainty she said, "Call me Gazelle" 
"Gazelle of district seven" a disembodied voice said over the speaker.
"See you on the field" Apollo called as she walked out the door. 
Gazelle immediately crossed to the long range weapon stand, and choose a long spear with a leather handle and a serrated point. She quickly leveled it with the target's heart, and thrust it with so much force it went flying through the target out the other side and stuck into the wall behind it. She continued down the line, barely pausing to strike a variety of knifes and throwing stars down the row of dummies. 
Not all the Gamemakers were watching her, but she had a good majority of them focused on her, giving her the 'Thumbs up' and the 'Go on' motions. 
She moved to the camouflage station, where a million different colors sat neatly in small circular black pottery. She plucked a thick brush and dipped it in a yellow pot, then mixed it with a bit of orange to make a shade that reminded her of mangos, a rare treat in district seven. She started on the tip of her left wing, working toward her right. 
Gazelle had never tried painting before, nor did she think she would be one of the tributes who hid the whole games. They usually starved to death, or were killed by one of the Hivewing's mutations, or for short, mutts. 
Some time passed, she wasn't exactly how much, but she was drenched in sweat and panting by the time she was dismissed. what had she done again?...how many? Obstacle courses, Bow and arrow range, spear throwing, snares, traps, a lot of traps... 
She punched the '7' button in the elevator, dragging her tail to the feasting area. (Capitol dragons called it a dinning table, but she refused to use their fancy language) 
"Get me some of that rabbit in orange sauce stew!" Gazelle snapped at a Seawing Avox. Maybe she would of been politer, or felt pity for this silent dragon if she wasn't so overwhelmed. She flopped down on a pile of neatly arranged cushions, and glared at the TV, as if it had insulted her. 
The sun drifted lazily across the sky, and finally the channel flicked to the private testing Scores. Heron joined her, with Anax, and the mentors. 
Male Nightwing-6 Female Nightwing-9 Male Sandwing-4 Female Sandwing-6 Female Skywing-3 Male Skywing-8 Male Icewing-9 Female Icewing-7 Male Seawing-5 Female Seawing-4 
Heron's headshot flashed on screen, 8, 
In the corner of Gazelle's eye she saw Anax squeeze Heron's talons. 
She heard blood pulsing in her ears, she was next. 
Gazelle's headshot appeared, time seemed to freeze, Stop shaking wings! You too talons! She commanded her body. 
10... 
Gazelle leaned back on the pillows. She felt her mouth tilting upward. Am I smiling? 
She realized everyone was staring at her. "What?" She snapped. Their eyes darted back to the TV. They'd missed the Rainwing's scores. 
Her new allies score flicked on screen, Apollo-9, Sage-6. 
She stalked to her room silently, not having the stomach to stay around. 
==== CHAPTER FIVE: (Apollo) ====
Tic, tic, tic,tic...
Her head buzzed, turning, planning, it worked like a machine. Tock, tock, tock, tock.
Thinking didn't quite cover it. The constant motors churning, running on infinite energy. It lead to many sleepless nights, though she never felt truly tired. Her talons constantly twitching. The only time her mind had ever really been off was in her metamorphosis, which was only...approximately one year, four weeks, two days, four or five hours, give or take, so... 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29....(Seconds). The back of her head kept counting, though it certainty helped to have a mental clock in her antenna. 
Despite about to be shot up into death reeking arena, she only harnessed the nervous energy to productivity, the way she'd been doing for...Since she had first felt nervous. 
A million plans formed in her head, the arena it self played the most important factor. Desert, Tropical, Woodlands, Plato, the list went on and on. 
She was pulled back to real life when a Hivewing cleared their throat and gestured with their spear it was time to go. Shaking, she stepped on to the platform and was shot up. First priority: Find Sage
Sage, her girlfriend's little brother, he was too young, too innocent, too helpless to go to the games. 
On top of her podium, she gathered her surroundings fast as lighting. 
A grassy plains, a few trees scattered here and there, it wasn't very big, its sides seemed to slope downward into nothing. She turned her head 90 degrees, the same setting, with the ends sloping down and out of sight. To the distance, she could see a mountain, sitting on it's own island... In the sky. 
Skyislands. She counted about 9 others, some were huge, some were just little chunks of rock. 
The tributes were in a circle, on either side of her, a Seawing and and a Rainwing. The Cornucopia sat in the middle of the circle, piled with goods, weapons, and medical kits. She crouched preparing to spring at a full sprint. 
Three. Two, One. The horn sounded. 
She snagged a pouch off the ground right under the arrogant snout of an Icewing, and continued sprinting for a gruesome looking knife with serrated edges. 
A body slammed into her. She was knocked off her feet and landed on her back. Dazed, she felt pressure on her neck. Webbed Seawing talons. She croaked for air, but her throat had been closed up. 
But then, a deep brown tail bashed the Seawing in the skull, he crumpled in a heap on top of her. She rolled aside and got to her feet. Gazelle was there, She was bleeding from a few nasty cuts but looked strong as ever. 
"Come on! Heron got sage to the edge of the island and is waiting for us, but we need to hurry!" Gazelle bellowed. 
Apollo nodded and the two of them took off, Gazelle in the lead. 
They swerved around corpses, knifes, teeth and claws, finally she spotted Sage, cowering under a bush, while Heron was tussling with a Leafwing. 
Apollo launched herself at the Leafwing, spinning silk to bind her snout shut, while Heron finished it. 
"Lets clear out!" Gazelle yelled in the chaos going down. 
Gazelle took off, aiming for a dense jungle island, with Heron on her tail. 
Apollo scooped Sage up, pounding her wings after her teammates. She had almost reached the island, when a blast of fire hit her head. 
"Augh!" Her talons slipped, and dropped Sage, thank the moons he got a grip on a tree growing out from the island. 
Unfortunately, she was not so lucky, she was losing altitude. She tried to grab for a levitating rock, but it was to small. 
She swiveled her head around to locate her attacker, than she realized the whole left side of her vision was gone. 
"Apollo!" Gazelle came back for her. "Apollo stay still!" She felt talons grip her shoulders and she was torn away from the rock. Despite the adrenaline pulsing through her body, she obeyed and stayed still. Gazelle was strong enough to get her to the jungle island. 
"Apollo your eye!" Sage squeaked as he darted out from a bush to hug her. She patted him comfortingly. Sage had a pouch slung around his neck, and was wearing a chest plate. 
Then Apollo felt her own blood dripping down her face. As her adrenaline went down, her brain processed the excruciating pain in the hole where her left eye once existed. 
Apollo opened her mouth to shriek as she felt the burn't flesh around her eye socket, but before she could, Heron clamped her snout shut. 
Gazelle patched up her face with a makeshift eye-patch constructed of moss and long blades of grass. 
"That will have to do for now, we just have to cross our talons it doesn't get infected." Gazelle sighed when she finished arranging the eye-patch. 
Sage clung onto Apollo and buried his face in her shoulder and began to sob. Apollo scooped him up as if he was a puppy, and stroked his wingbuds. 
She wondered if her girlfriend was watching right now, or if she was asleep. 
Poor Lacey. This must be hurting her as bad as if she were in the games herself. 
Lacey, or Lacewing, was Sage's big sister, and yes, Apollo's girlfriend. Sage and herself were Lacey's only positive companions. Lacewing only had one living parental figure, whom wanted as little to do with her as possible. In addition, Lacey did have "friends" but they were very toxic to her. Apollo just wanted to help her, to save her from the awful place that is district nine. 
With this unique opportunity, if she or Sage could win, the money would change everything. 
But there was one question that kept tugging at her, and she just didn't know the answer, which was odd, because she always knew the answer. Would she die for Sage, or if it came down to just them, would she commit suicide for him? Who deserved to live more? 
==== CHAPTER SIX (Jasper) ====
Night was falling on the arena, Unfortunately, he lost his Seawing alias in the bloodbath, so now it was just him, the female Skywing from his district, Hearth. And the pair of Nightwings, which to be honest, he was hoping would die soon.
They had set up base for the night on one of the smaller skyislands, which had a convenient cave that was mostly hidden by vegetation. 
Jasper glanced over at Hearth, who was leaning against the back wall of the cave, picking dried blood from her talons. 
The capital anthem began to play and they all peered out at the sky to see who had fallen. 
Both Sandwings had perished in the Bloodbath. 
The male Icewing tribute was also gone. 
Both Seawings were dead. 
As was the male Rainwing. 
The female Leafwing. 
The capitol seal closed, and there was silence. 
Hearth was the first to break it, "Moon cursed ravens, how did that Silkwing make it, I literally fried her brain". 
Quietclaws, the female Nightwing, sat up, "Then let's finish the job. Should be easy, just a Silkwing, a wingless worm, and a pair of dim Mudwings". She slid her pouch of knifes and buckled her helmet. 
Jasper found it unsettling how observant Quietclaws was. He felt coldness slide down his spine like slick snowfall. 
"Great, lets go now while it's dark out, I saw where the Mudwing took the Silkwing, they're camping on that jungle island". Hearth launched herself into the sky, taking the lead. 
Jasper grabbed his spear from the floor, and nudged Smokesight, the male Nightwing tribute, to follow. 
Jasper and Hearth moved swiftly and quietly, easily swerving around obstacles, and while the Nightwings were a bit noisy, they camouflaged well. 
Jasper and his group touched down on the jungle island as quietly as possible, but it was extremely difficult not to make a sound in the leaf mulch that carpeted the ground.
Then he saw something odd in the corner of his eye, one of the tree branches seemed to shift in an unnatural way, so did some of the leaves in that area. I must have imagined it.
Hearth gestured for them to follow her, and they crept stealthily through the dense forest.
"Maybe we aught to be a bit more cautious. I have a bad gut feeling." Smokesight spoke in a soft whisper from the rear.
"Shut your snout before I cut it off" Quietclaws snarled quietly at the other Nightwing. 
Then suddenly, Hearth bolted under a bush in a silent agile movement. Jasper knew what this mean't, he'd known Hearth before the games, not well, but enough to never doubt her instincts. He threw himself into a thick hollow log.
The Nightwings however, were too slow.
The Silkwing-Mudwing group entered the area.
From a hole in the log, Jasper could see what was going on. 
The female Mudwing, Jasper was pretty sure her name was Gazelle, pounced onto Smokesight, grabbing his horns and bashing his head on a tree truck multiple times with astonishing strength. The blow of a cannon echoed in the arena. 
The male Mudwing, probably Heron, and the female Silkwing, squared off with Quietclaws.
Jasper realized how ironic Quietclaws's name was.
Smokesight had gone limp, blood gushing from his mouth, ears, and nostrils. His skull had undoubtedly been fractured, and his head was horrible swollen.
Seeing his dead teammate, it hit him hard that he was almost certainly, going to die a awful death. Not only that, he had known Smokesight, he was a kind dragon, he didn't deserve this ending.
Only the snap of a neck and the boom of another cannon brought him out of the trance. His eyes refocused and he saw Quietclaws's body, falling with a thump.
No. No, these dragons are killers. I-I have to do it. I MUST AVENGE THEM. 
Jasper lunged out of the log, seizing Gazelle's neck with his talons, digging his claws into her scales, pinning her down with his advantage of weight. 
Hearth darted from her spot, cleverly knocking the female Silkwing unconscious with her tail from her blind side, while lashing out at Heron with her front talons.
Just when Jasper was about to squeeze the last breath out of the Mudwing, when he felt some kind of liquid sprayed onto his chest and cheek.
At first, it didn't bother him, then, a torturing agony unlike anything he could dream of blinded all sense of sanity.
Jasper threw himself into the sky, forgetting everything but fear and agony.
He could FEEL his scales melting off his body, the last sane thought he could process, was Hearth's heartbreaking shriek, as she had surely met the same fate he did. 
==== CHAPTER SEVEN (Aphrodite) ====
The female Rainwing tribute clung to the branch, observing the fight below her. Her scales changed with the shaking leaves, in perfect camouflage. Two of her alias had already died in the blood bath, which just left her and Oleander, the female Leafwing Tribute, but Oleander apparently had no interest in waiting for Aphrodite
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