Roots (Dustin and Jaimie Post-BB)

Colan stepped forward with his right leg, pain seething through his whole body as pressure was put on his thigh. A silent groan that was barely audible escaped him as he glanced down at his thigh, watching blood continuously pour down from the deep wound, the scarlet liquid staining the shorts that covered it. The sight caused his stomach to churn, the feeling of it bubbling deep inside him, threatening to empty itself once again like in the Bloodbath. He brought his hand down to cover the bleeding wound, the blood flowing over it quickly, the feeling of it causing him to pull his hand away.

His stormy-blue gaze slowly traveled back up to the fighting around him, his rigid stance abnormal compared to the other tributes who seemed to be dancing on their feet. Their movements were peculiar to him as they found ways to hurt the girl that probably wouldn't have ocurred in his tortured mind. The shoe. How the hell did she think of that? And the District Two boy, he obviously knew how to use a knife, despite his misses. Colan... he just stood there, awkwardly throwing a punch, only causing a few minor blows. For the millionth time in is life, he was just the kid that stood off to the side, silently contemplated how to engage in the action.

The thought of it sent waves of frustration through him, the feeling crashing inside of him like a raging storm. Colan's blue eyes filled with rage at his behavior; his lack of social and physical skills. Hadn't he paid for what he had done enough? Hadn't he went through most of his life without one friend, just spending time with his animals and his father? Hadn' he just went through a Bloodbath and almost gotten killed? Even though he prayed that it had been enough, he knew he hadn't. Nothing would be enough to pay for what he had done, even if it had been an "accident".

Colan drifted out of his tortured thoughts and pleas, focusing on the crack that had just split through the ominous and tense air. His gaze turned quickly toward Razor, seeing him hold his wrist at an awkward angle, with anguish etched clearly across his face. He could see something else registering across Razor's face, a slight look of surprise or frustration there. But, he couldn't take his time to decide it like he usually did, for now was his time to attack.

He no longer felt as sorry for the girl, for her suggestion that Razor help her kill Saskia filled him with disbelief and anger toward her. She was just as merciless and unthoughtful as the rest of them, her mindset completely different from the one tribute that he actually liked, atleast to a certain extent. But, of course, that tribute was gone, along with the rest of the ones who had died in the Bloodbath. With that thought, Colan sent his arm flying forward for the third time, hoping and praying that all of the fighting would pay off.

[Attacks Jaimie - Unarmed]
[dice=200+5000]
[Knocked Backward - 0.5 Damage]

"Now why did you have to go and do something like break my wrist? Not a good move I'm afraid. I might have leave you alone soon. But tell me, where is dustin? He said you know where to meet him. Something about a plan. He's the one I want." The words caused another sigh to escape his bloody lips, his eyes focusing on Razor once again. To a certain extent, he agreed with Razor, though not for the same reason. He had the slight thought to just leave the fight, for the attacks weren't working out too great. For the millionth time, it was time to just give up again. Like everything else.