Training for the last battle before dark( Open to all)Blitz

Tell me something, something that can move me
T-tell me lies and I swear you're gonna lose me
Like an ocean jealous of the fish
It feeds you devotion, swimming inside of me

A huff of air slipped past my lips while I watched the boy, and the crimson liquid dripping from his paws. Heavy boots hit the ground as I nonchalantly wander over. I lean over his shoulder with my arms crossed, peeking at the blood dripping free from the cut on his palm. "You should ah... Get that looked at. Don't want it infected." I say, probably the first series of words I've said to anyone here.

Now, normally, I wouldn't have said three words to this kid, but he had the damn axe I wanted and there was no way in hell I would let myself take the blame for this idiot's blood leftover on my hands. The game makers kept plans for those who disobeyed the rules in the training center, I was sure.

"Why don't you go wash it off and tell someone?" My suggestion carried a deep undertone, my voice soft yet harsh. And I'll hold that axe for you...

Tell me something, something that can move me
T-tell me lies and I swear you're gonna lose me
Like an ocean jealous of the fish
It feeds you devotion, swimming inside of me

I catch the bloody thing with ease. It fits well into my hands- almost too well to not have been made for me. My lips turn upwards into a grim smile, and my eyes narrow slightly at the male across from me. "Well, hon, I didn't think we were allowed to start taking shots at each other. You know these Game Makers- want to save the good stuff until everyone can see."

The blade of the weapon rises to the bottom of my ebony over-shirt, where I wipe away the ruby residue. See, coming from district seven gives me a distinct advantage out in that arena. Whereas the boy and girl from four are probably stupidly proficient with tridents, I am skilled with axes.

In this instance, I turn my back to the seventeen year old kid behind me, and lift the axe above my shoulders.

Breathe in

Breathe out

My biceps and triceps and all my other kinds of 'ceps flex as I slam the axe downwards into the training dummy's shoulder, leaving it buried halfway down into its chest with virtually no effort.

"You see, twelve, a person is almost exactly like a tree." My hands move to tear the axe away. "We both have a tough exterior, but once you cut down to the meat, we fall just the same." My tone was nothing close to friendly, not that I wanted it to be. This kid was weak, I could see the fear hiding in his eyes like I did in most here. I wanted to exploit that trait.

"Alright Twelve," I say, slinging the blade over a shoulder, offering him one of my rough, working hands. "What's your name?"