"...It has been far too long. The sting of repeated defeats convinced me to step aside and simply spectate, rather than try my hand at the prize... but it has been long enough. I cannot hold myself back any longer."
A mad laugh echoes through a lonely mountain hall, with only the soft sigh of a small dog rolling his eyes at the ostentatious performance of it all.
"GURREL! WE STRIKE AT DAWN - WE HAVE A HUNGER GAMES TO FEED... WITH THE BLOOD OF OUR ENEMIES!!! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHHH!!!"
The laugh continues for almost a minute longer, before it pauses with a sudden coughing fit. A half-growled bark punctuates the pained recovery, and earns another sigh, this time from the madman in question.
"...Oh, right, right. I should ask Amata to cover for me. I should be responsible enough to ensure I have a replacement in the Board of Sponsors before I throw myself back into the ring. Yes, thank you, Gurrel."
The only answer is a far more self-satisfied sounding yip, and the soft pattering of tiny paws against hard stone flooring.