New here? (Frankel)

The guy also changes and I can see that he's slim and slightly muscular. At a closer look I can tell he's in his early teens, maybe 3 or 4 years younger than me and still has to buff up a little if he wants to be a career. That is unless he has other skills.

He tells me it's his first day, which involuntarily makes me chuckle.
"Really? Well, then...welcome to the dshungle."
I can't even remember when I set foot in here the first time but it had to be maybe 7 years ago.

Then it occurs to me that this new kid might just be the right training partner for today because I'm pretty sure he won't rough me up to hard if he's never been here.
"Do you have a training partner yet? I mean - if you want one or at all. Or are you one of those guys who do their own thing?"
For a moment I scan him with a bit of curiosity while I push my short sleeves up to my shoulders because it's a humid day.

Without many questions asked the guy agreed to training with me, which made me wonder whether he knew who I am. The last pregames had given me a certain amount of publicity amongts those interested in such things. After all they had been all over the districts screens for a while.

Like a boxer he's wrapping his hands and then asks. "So what are you good at exactly?"
I guess he doesn't know me!
So I motion for his wraps. "That."

With a smirk I add.
"I don't want to practise what I'm good at though. I need a to do some cardio, some weights and when you're still around we can do some stick fighting or long range weapons."
Provocatively I roll my shoulders and raise me fists.
"You can earn some sparring sessions that way, buddy. What's your name anyway? I'm Matt."

As soon as my name is mentioned I can see it on his face. He recalls it.
"You were in the pre-games last year weren't you?"

With a somewhat shy grin I nod. “Yeah.” Back then I had a really hard time dealing with loosing the final battle but I’m okay with that now. There are more important things in life- like my newborn daughter.

"Well I am here all day and I am up for that sparring session." The guy tells me but I have to decline.
“Not today, man. I’ve been in a fight last week that ended pretty badly.”
I won’t tell him all the damage I suffered but I still need to justify why any fight would end in an unfortunate way for me. “It was four against one and unfortunately I wasn’t the one standing in the end.”
I watch him unwrap his fists.

"I'll do some cardio and whatever, i'm a dab hand with a blade, i'll do some stick fighting. My name is Alfan, but people call me Alf, purely because it is shorter."
Does he expect me to shake his hand or something?
I just grin to myself and clap him on the shoulder on my out´because he seems a little over eager. Typical newbie.
“Let’s get started then.”
Outside I fall into an easy jog and round the building to make my way to the large field with a track around it that is located behind the gym.
Even the first few faster steps put enough strain on my lung to make me cough. I know it’s a good thing and I’m supposed to do it to strengthen that damn lung that keeps collapsing since Jins decided to push a dagger into it about 8 months ago.
It’s still embarrassing so I suppress it and pick up the pace a little.
For Alf it’s easy to keep up with me like that.
We do 15 minutes of laps before we walk on over to the small weights area, where I focus on leg work first.
“Why do you start so late? I mean most careers start at the age of 10.”

I'm not sure whether he just wants to suck up to me by saying I did well in the finale of the pregames and fighting against 4 others. While we run I think about that for a moment. There might be a bit of true admiration in there but I think he's just looking to find someone to tag along because he's new and admittedly I'd be my first choice as well.

The run warmed me up nicely so I grab the free weights after squats and lunches and start working my biceps and triceps. Every now and then I glance over at them and make note of the weigh he chose. It's too much to start so I'm curious to find out how long he'll last before his muscles go sour.
"My dad has been training me and my siblings. I surpassed his training level." He explains.
"I am hoping to get into the pregames this year, so need real training from professionals."
"That's true. Why do you want to get into the pregames? You don't have a lot of time. Two weeks. That's not enough unless you know all sorts of weapons and are in really good shape. Are you?"
I don't care whether he wants my advice or not.

After three sets I lower myself to the ground for a few push ups but I can feel the strain on my bruised ribcage and instantly become worried that I might do more damage than good. So I sit on the floor instead and wait for him to finish his work out.

I watch him work out for a while and notice a few mistakes. He should tuck in his elbows more, lower the weights a little slower, keep his knees bent...things I've learned at the center, which his father might not be aware of.

"Hey, keep you knees bent when you do that." I advice him.

"I've worked with swords and throwing knives. I know some basic first aid and survival, making fires and all the essential stuff. I've been running around the District since I was seven, so my stamina is grand."
Of course he's bragging a little, who wouldn't.
"Sure." I run my hand over my long hair and tuck it behind my ears. It's time to start wearing a hat to keep it out of my face or maybe cut it. I refuse to look like one of them damn pks though.

"I would've signed up for training at ten, but it's my mum's fault. One of those caring, loved up ones, she tried to wrap us all up in cotton wool. But my dad decided to just give us all training, taught us what he knows, he was an alright career in his day."

"At least you have a mother who cares. Mine ran off when I was 4." I'm rather indifferent about this by now. It's not like I didn't manage to grow up with my father only. Even though my girl friend can attest to the gentle touch missing in my life.


"Anything else we can do?" He asked so I push myself up and hide the slight pain well. No need to show any weakness in front of other careers I might be competing with. A lesson learned long ago.

"Let's go inside. Do some stick work." I suggest and lead the way to the room where most of the weapons are locked away. Me being one of the instructors for the younger kids here- I have a key. So I unlock it and grab two of the long rubber weapons, who might not be deadly but stil hurt if you whack someone hard enough.

"There." I hand him one, lock the room again and proceed to the gym, where a lot of others are also currently training different disciplines so close to the pregames. The air is warm and stuffy in here and we can see dust flying through the open space, where light filters in.

I take a quick look around and recignise some of the others training here. After all I've been here long enough. With a nod I greet a few guy who are roughly my age and I used to train with a few years ago.
One of them points over to me and shouts. "You back?"
I indicate 'maybe' with my hand and then turn to Alf.
"If you want to learn a thing or two about swords watch those guys. The blonde one is an excellent sword fighter, the other guy kicks ass at wrestling."

With the newbie in tow I make my way over to one of the unoccupied training matts and warm up my shoulders by rotating them and twirling around my stick and weighing it in my hand. Once he's on the matt, too, I nod at him. "Ready?"
Without waiting for an aswer I attack hoping he'll be fast enough to block.
I make a mental note not to let him hit me in the ribs, come what may.