→ I.V

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ACT I
CHAPTER V

training and tactics


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In the middle of the training facilities, all the tributes stand in a circle around a woman. With eyes like a hawk, she introduces herself as the head trainer Atala. Thana is basically glued to Harl's side as the other tributes eye each other in their training gear. The first weaklings already on the radar of the careers as easy kills in the first few hours of the games.

"In roughly two weeks," the head trainer starts her talk, "23 of you will be death." Her voice is harsh as all the tributes are silent. "One of you will be alive." She arches a brow, scanning the tributes, possibly already choosing a victor in her head. "Who that is, depends on how well you pay attention over the next four days." Her eyes stop at the careers, "particularly to what I am about to say."

There is a dramatic silence, one that allows the tributes to scan each other for strengths and weaknesses. Atala is about to tell the most important information for possibly the rest of their lives, only for one, the victor it would not be for the rest of their live.

"First, no fighting with the other tributes, you'll have plenty of time for that in the Arena," a humourless chuckle escapes the woman that stiffens Thana's muscles. "There are four compulsory exercises, the rest will be individual training. My advice is, don't ignore the survival skills." Atala takes a breath before she continues, "everybody wants to grab a sword, but most of you will die from natural causes." Thana's hands start to tremble as she nearly jumps at another casual mention of their possible deaths. "10% from infection, 20% from dehydration. Exposure can kill as easily as a knife."



With little hesitation the tributes leave the woman, the careers eager to get their hands on the, for them, trusty weapons the Capitol has on display for them to use. To the tributes from district 9's shock, a scythe and multiple sickles and bended swords are in between them.

Thana knows the proper use of them, how they cut the grains and how sharp they should be. Harl nods at her, feeling a little iffy to see things from home here, though they shine way to bright to even be from district 9.

"I never wanted to vision our equipment with killing people," she whispers to the boy, as they walk towards a survival station. "Those are meant for plants, for wheats."

"I can't remember a scythe to ever be placed in the arena." The boy muses to her, getting his hands on the ropes present. Easily tightening them the way they knot around the grain.

Thana follows his example; her hands barely seem to touch the material. The trainer of the station temporarily confused as they excel in the knot without even really paying attention to their work.

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