pick-up sticks [D'Arcy x Noah]

Desperation had descended onto D'Arcy as the day of training inched towards its end. It had not been a good one so far - the focus on weapons skills had drained the little confidence she had built for herself throughout the day. The swords and blunts and axes had been so heavy, even with tributes stepping in to lend a hand. D'Arcy had hoped perhaps that weapons could be a skill she never knew she had, instead she had been doing worse than she'd ever imagined before.

She wanted badly to blame the stares. Everyone seemed to keep looking at her, looking away as her eyes searched for theirs. D'Arcy was left feeling as though she had a hidden audience no matter where she was in here. Everyone sizing her up like a cut of meat, or planning her demise, or writing her off as someone not to worry about. She sometimes caught the scowls and pouts on the nearby faces, wondered if maybe those had been meant for her. Even if they weren't, they gave D'Arcy no solace, and the sensation gave D'Arcy the overall sense of stage fright.

The only thing keeping her powering through the day was words her mother used to always say to her and her sisters, back in days where problems could be more trivial. "Don't give up, keep trying." So despite her own worries that she would not succeed, and her certainty that more eyes would soon lock onto her unseen, she made her way over to a section filled with spears. There were many weapons here, after all. There was bound to be one that she could work with.

As she walked up to the station she saw the boy from District Two busying himself with one of the sharp poles. A Career, she recognized with a shiver down her spine. The fear tried creeping in with its thoughts to turn around, find something else to fail at, but she brushed them away and forced herself to stay put, waiting, watching. Maybe she'll be able to learn a thing or two from him and his technique.

If nothing else, it felt nice to at least be the one doing the watching, for a change.