Deceived: The 500th Annual Hunger Games

Chapter 64 - Training: Day 2

LIBO LAPWORTH'S P.O.V

"C'mon, Libo," Hazil moaned. "Survival skills?"

"Yes," I reply sternly. "I will need them."

"Is this your sisters idea?" She yelled.

"No," I spat back. Eunia's decision isn't my decision. "What if we all lose our supplies? Then what?"

"Then we'll get sponsored," she said, crossing her arms and scowling.

I rolled my eyes. We're District Four tributes. Fish, tridents and nets are our speciality. Does she think we're going to survive the entire games on backpacks from spawn? What if we don't even get to run spawn?

"I'm going to the fire making station," I say, turning away. "We'll probably need to cook the food we get."

She screamed some kind of abuse at me, unable to point out the fact that she was wrong and I was right. Chicken is always at the cornucopia. What does she think we'll do - eat it raw and die from food poisoning?

The lady at the station smiled at me. "Hey Libo, you wanna learn to make a fire?" Her hair was yellow, orange and red, just like a fire.

I nod. "Fire isn't the speciality of District Four," I laugh. "What do I need to do?"

I looked over at an angry Hazil, who had a dagger and a trident in her hand. She swiped ferociously at a dummy, grunting as she swiped the blades across the dummy's face.

"We'll use wood," she said. "Flint and steel or manes are usually in a pack, but if you're super unlucky and get a pack without a fire igniting item, you need to use sticks."

She handed me a bunch of sticks, ranging from thin to thick, long to short, oak to birch to pine to willow. I separated the thick ones from the thin ones, hoping I was taking a step in the right direction.

"Good," the instructor smiled. "What do you think you do next?"

"Put the thick ones in a pile?"

She shook her head, but continued to smile. "Thin ones."

"Why?"

"They're easier to set alight," she answered. "You add the thick ones in once a steady flame has been produced."

I rubbed two thin sticks together like I'd seen previous tributes do, but I struggled. The sweat dripping off of my forehead could probably cook a raw steak faster than any fire right now.

"You're running the cornucopia, right?" She asked. "If they leave you with six bags, you'll be guaranteed to have a pack of matches. Only five don't have matches."

I smiled. "Can you teach me how to use them?"

She picked up a packet of matches. I heard a snigger from behind me.

I jerked my head to find Pleione laughing at my inability to strike a match.

"What's so funny?" I ask defensively.

"You," she smirked. "You're a real jerk, you know."

"I don't know," I replied, turning back towards the matches.

"You would've stuck with Eunia if you had any sense."

I swallow. She is right. But survival is more important than a sibling.

"I have priorities."

"Good luck in the arena," she scowled. "You're lucky to have a sister like Eunia."

I frown. Eunia isn't that great. Sure, she can use weapons well enough, but she isn't exactly Career material.

I was snapped back to reality as the match struck against the weird thing on the side of the box, bursting into flames. I watched her wave the match around loose bark and extremely thin twigs.