task at hand {puppy}{blitz}

My eyes are averted from the training station, instead they are shyly looking down at the ground in front of the boy, refusing to make eye contact. My fingers are aching slightly from the past hour I had been spending at this station trying to create the trap to catch the toy rabbit. My tiny fingers start to nervously play around with the string, tying knot after knot in a little pattern.

I can feel his gaze on the top of my head like two laser pointers drilling a hole into my skull. I shiver slightly from the intensity of the stare. I guess maybe they have staring class in district five?

"What made me think I wanted it to involve you?" Sol Shim's voice cuts the air like a knife, making me shiver again in my boots, "I came here to learn how to trap, and that's what I'm doing."

Why does it feel sometimes as though every tribute is out to get me? Maybe they are. It would make sense. I am the youngest, the smallest, the most likely to die out of everyone here. The two youngest next to me are well off. Andy has career training to back him up and Iain has sponsors galore.

I turn my head back around to face the trapping book in front of me while he reads his, and my fingers unwind what I had been doing nervously and start on the next trap, a small one that can immobilize the legs while in use. A mischievous thought passes through my head, and I start to tie each knot faster and faster.

[ a small doe ]