𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐈𝐄 ━━ finnick odair ✓

𝐟𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐧. ( matriarchy )

           It comes as a surprise to everyone except me that Gloss isn't all that upset about my decision. His only concern is that the training window is a bit short to get me properly caught up. Unlike Ronan and Finnick, he wouldn't ask me to stay behind if I felt I needed to go. Dinner is an odd affair, with no one outright still upset but with an indisputable sense of discomfort buzzing in the air.

My relief is immeasurable when Ronan decides to stay behind and work during our evening hunting session. Katniss and Gale don't show up to meet us either, so it's just Gloss that I have to share my company with. We start chatting as soon as we're far enough away from the compound to feel privacy.

"You'll be able to test out of basic training. I did and moved on to more advanced training within the first two days," Gloss says with such full confidence that I almost laugh out loud.

"You were able to pass because you're you, I'm not sure it will work out the same way with me." I try my best to temper his expectations.

"There are three main parts of basic. Combat, weaponry, and protocols. I'll teach you how to disassemble and clean a gun and you can pick up a book on District 13 military rules. Bam, you're out of the beginner classes." Gloss holds up three fingers to demonstrate.

"And what about combat?" I ask.

"You realize that you're way ahead of the curve, right? You have had hours of one on one instruction with me, and I'm a pretty fucking fantastic instructor."

"I don't win fights though," I argue.

"Against me? Yeah, of course you don't. I'm nearly twice your weight and half a foot taller than you. Not to mention that I'm basically unbeatable. If you fought someone in your own weight class with this military's mediocre training, you'd absolutely dominate." He raises the gun to his shoulder suddenly.

A loud crack fills that air, but whatever he's spotted has slipped away.

"Come here, might as well show you how to work this thing if I'm not going to hit anything tonight."

We sit on some rotting logs and he gives me a brief overview of weapon care. He points out regions of the gun and gives them names. He shows me how to load bullets and how to strip it, then how to disassemble and clean it. After he's satisfied with my progress, he leaves me in charge of it and tells me that I'm handling the hunting for the rest of the night. We resume our patrol of the woods, ears pricked for any sound of life around us.

Gloss is the one who spots the raccoon. He points to it with a steady finger in the air. I draw the gun up to my shoulder and fit the animal in my sight. We're close enough that it's not even a question of missing. I take a deep breath in and ready myself. My hands lower almost as soon as I'm ready. I watch as the small grey animal forages through undergrowth for food, lumbering gait betraying a sense of comfort.

I turn my gaze to Gloss and shake my head. He doesn't look the least bit surprised or bother to scold me. Instead, he silently takes the gun from me. It takes him less than five seconds to take the creature out.

"If you can't shoot a raccoon, what makes you think you can shoot a person?" Gloss asks after retrieving his kill.

"It's not my intention to shoot a person," I answer. "I think a good soldier can get away without killing."

"I think that there's going to come a day where you realize that you're okay with killing a person in exchange for another person's life. That's just the way war is. What if it was a choice between saving Finnick or killing a Capitol soldier? Would you kill someone then?" His tone is not harsh, but rather serious. When I don't answer, he doesn't press me. "Practice on those pinecones while I skin this." He jerks his head towards a cluster of trees and hands me the weapon.