Say Please // Cato

Ever since nearly dying in the godforsaken tsunami that had hit district four, Katrina had redoubled her efforts to hone her body and her skillset. She had been weakened by water of all things; two cracked ribs, a hairline fracture on her sternum, a broken wrist and internal bleeding. But that was in the past. She had gotten a clean bill of health exactly one month ago and the past thirty days had been all about pushing herself to her limits. She’d kept doing the fifty yard dash until she could do it in six point four seconds, had felt the burn in her chest lifting weights, had forced herself to do push-ups until her arms gave out and had been swimming non-stop in whatever water wasn’t too full of wreckage.

And of course, practiced how to kill people.

Katrina was thankful that at least a few places to train had survived the natural disaster. She started off with the throwing knives to warm up, throwing at half spin and then a full spin. After a half hour of that, she started doing laps around the building. When she stopped, breathing hard and sweat pouring off her in the humidity, she downed two water bottles and toweled off. Wherever her bronze skin showed through it glistened from the sheen as she wiped it away. The training suit she wore was form fitting for ease of movement; a grey and red tank top with matching shorts. Ankle socks and running shoes completed the ensemble.

She inhaled deeply, and immediately regretted it. Even months later, many of buildings in four smelled of dead fish and rotting wood. What did that say about the people? One roll of her neck later and she heard a satisfying crack and that eased her into her stretches. Onetwothreeonetwothree. Working out the kinks was more important than some careers realized. Who wanted to get into the arena and then die because a pulled leg muscle prevented you from running away? Or your arm cramped while swinging a sword and your opponent’s didn’t? Onetwothreeonetwothree.

Upon reaching the area set up for javelin throwing, she was annoyed to find some shrimp in the middle of using it. This threw off her schedule; she always threw javelins at this time and she hadn’t seen him before. She strode over, lanky legs carrying her tall frame over, standing a few feet behind him. He hadn’t noticed her yet. He was short. A mop of curly brown hair on his head. But most importantly, he was in the way. She walked a couple steps closer and crossed her arms. He still hadn’t turned around. Katrina huffed in aggravation, feeling prickly on the back of her neck.

“I need to use this station, fish.” She practically spat.“ Find something else to do.”