Fifteen, There's Still Time for You [OPEN]

Bestia knew that she shouldn't have her weapon so openly visible, but she couldn't care less. The only way she would get into the gym was if someone noticed her, and that meant taking her skills to the doors of the large building. It cost a little money to get in, so only a few in the district couldn't afford it, and as luck would have it, she was part of that minority. Fate had dealt her a poor hand - literally. "Get a job," her father had said. "Earn some money and become a proper Career." If only the family's remaining coin at the end of the month wasn't spent on her two wimpish brothers, it wouldn't be a problem.

They do nothing for me, but they expect me to bring us fortune! Although the odds were slim of getting into the Games, it was the best chance of escaping the poverty trap in the rougher end of the mining district. A competition here or there for archery or survival strategy earned a nice sum - if she could ever win - but the real attraction was becoming a Victor.

Her family barely had two coins to rub together, but today she had both of them, lifted from the supposed 'secret' emergency stash. This is an emergency, she thought, smirking, I'm starving! Bestia wondered if those words would come back to bite her in the future, when she could be actually starving. Still, it wasn't enough to stop her from heading to the bakers for something sweet.

But as the rock collided with her skull, her train of thought veered off track. "Aaow! What the hell!" she shouted, clutching the side of her head. Spinning around, making herself dizzy already, she scanned the rough direction that the pebble had come from. Her eyes came to rest on a teenage girl a good few meters away. "Hey! You!" she yelled, taking a few strides towards her, the lure of food forgotten. Who does she think she is?

Standing over the other girl partially filled the void of embarrassment that lay within Bestia. But she didn't seem too bothered by her presence. "Sorry, what did you want?" She was looked up and down, as if she was disgusted with her. Crossing her arms, Bestia examined her target. They were remarkably similar, sparing a few crucial details: the stranger's curls were tighter, darker than her own, and her eyes seemed to disappear into shadow. Running - either chasing this girl or the other way around - could turn out in either of them winning or losing. This new person was stronger with more muscle, but nearly everyone who ate meat from time to time was more toned than Bestia, who could run for a long time, but this rival would probably overtake her within seconds.

She took a step backwards as the other girl stood up, still a few centimetres shorter than herself, but only by age. If she was a couple of years older, seventeen like Bestia, she would surpass her. She pulled out a sling-shot mockingly, tossing it up in the air.
"Artimis. Bayberry," she said casually, taking a bite of her bagel. Bestia felt her stomach tighten, reminded of where she was heading before being smacked in the head. "You'd be dead if you were in the Hunger Games you know. There you'd have a lot worse than a bruise on the back of your skull."

Bestia's fists clenched, but she knew there was no point in throwing punches - her arms didn't have the strength. "Well then Bayberry Artemis," she said slowly, misunderstanding what the order of what the girl had said, "I guess I would know where to point my bow from the direction or your little missile, and pick you off. But since we're both District Two girls, we're not going to end up in the Arena together. Which would] be a shame." A slight tremble entered her voice from anger, and she hoped it wouldn't come across as fear. The sight of blood shot fear into her, not cocky little Career wannabes.

"Isn't there something you want to say to me?" she asked, stepping back and tapping the girl's shoulder with the top of her bow.