Round 1: Texas vs Quinn [91st spar]

Quinn tried not to see her youth and size as a disadvantage. She had decided to sign up for the sparring match because she felt the need to test herself before the arena. For any chance of survival, she needed to be prepared. Most of the other tributes were bigger and likely stronger than her. She was one of the youngest ones there, too.

She took a deep breath as she was called into the room for sparring. Quinn listened to the announcement from Gamemaker Saber Bancroft as he explained that there would be no 'second chances' in this tournament. The rules were explained, and they were told that it was time for the sparring match to commence.

Quinn picked out a wooden sword as her weapon. It was heavier than she would've liked, but she hoped that was just because it was made of wood. Maybe the real thing was lighter. Perhaps she should've picked a weapon that she'd already trained with since arriving here, like a knife, but for some reason, she'd decided that a sword was a better option. Maybe that was just because it was a bigger weapon, and she associated bigger weapons with being more dangerous.

Approaching her opponent with her weapon, she gave a nod of greeting to the tribute named Texas Lovell.

"Let's go," she told him. Then, she swung her wooden weapon at him.

As her wooden sword met her opponent's arm, he cusses, and Quinn feels the slightest bit guilty about inflicting pain on someone when she doesn't need to. They aren't in the arena yet, so it's not truly necessary, but she did sign up for this. So, she'd be giving it her best.

The boy she's fighting— Texas is his name— makes a comment about the Capitol coming for victor relatives. She wouldn't exactly disagree. Then, however, he says something that strikes her a bit differently.

Was she really expecting to get home?

Before her answer comes, he swings his weapon.

Tex's wooden axe meets her hip and she lets out a yelp. She grits her teeth, forcing herself through the pain. It'll be so much worse in the arena with real weapons, she's sure. So, she can't let herself go down so easily. Especially not now.

"I certainly think I've got a chance," she tells him with a grunt. "and I'll be damned if I don't try my hardest to get out of that arena alive."

She readies her sword again, gripping it tighter now, knuckles white.

"You planning on trying to stop me or something?"

She's determined now. Her words and stance exude more confidence than she's had in a long time. Maybe Quinn Garner can be a fighter.

Quinn's weapon doesn't hit her target as hard this time. He must've already picked up on her ways of moving and attacking. She didn't have a whole lot of strategy for fighting yet, but she needed to develop one, and this, she supposed, was the best way: practicing. If she knew her first method was easy to figure out, she would know she had to come up with another way of doing things.

So, she changed her stance a bit as her opponent spoke to her. Tex's response to her words was simple. "Aren't we all?" he said.

Perhaps he wasn't really wrong.

Tex swung at her, and she managed to stop out of the way in time, impressed with herself but trying not to show it.

"I suppose you're right. No one really wants someone else to win over themselves. That's just not how this whole thing works."

She almost called it a game, which truly, it was, but she didn't like to think of it in that way. So, she just called it this "whole thing" instead. What other word or phrase was she really meant to use? Death match?

That wasn't the focus right now. She had to finish this spar first.

Now to time things right.

Swing!