HURRICANE, finnick odair (hiatus)

v. training sessions

CHAPTER FIVE!

TRAINING SESSIONS

ROSALIE BREATHES SHAKILY AS SHE STEPS INTO THE LARGE ROOM WITH ZACHARIAH AT HER SIDE. The room is full of the other tributes who are playing around with equipment, the career tributes showing off their strengths to everybody around them. She has to stop herself from showing the fear she is feeling, simply deciding to walk as confidently as she can manage.

Zachariah doesn't seem the slightest bit bothered by the other people that are around them, simply walking by Rosalie as she tries to calm herself. She finds herself feeling a little envious of the way he is able to completely block out everybody around him as if they don't really exist at all. She doesn't have that luxury.

"Tributes! Gather around," the head trainer calls after the rest of the teenagers pile into the room.

Despite the fact they have yet to really connect with one another, she sticks by her District partner during the small gathering. The gazes of other tributes cause her limbs to tremble, most of them looking at her as if she's an easy target — she is, she knows that.

"In a few weeks, twenty three of you will be dead,"

The last word makes the brunette flinch, the harshness in the woman's voice is both scary and definite. She takes the time to gaze around her discreetly, her heart breaking for the younger children who have hardly got to live at all. All of them shaking in their boots as people twice their height look ready to kill them. The Careers will have no issues taking them out and that in itself is scary.

"One of you will be alive, who that is depends on how you pay attention of the next few days," the woman continues, seeming disinterested. "It should be noted that knowing how to fight is only half the struggle, you must also learn how to survive,"

The trainer gestures around to a few of the stations that don't involve the use of weapons. Rosalie's eyes zero in on the table that has all the materials to make a makeshift fishing hook, something which she has done at home a hundred times before. If the Games involve water, she may have some sort of chance.

"Not every arena will be greatly equipped with water or warmth nor will it have all the necessary items to survive extreme heat. You have no idea what you're walking into until you get there so it's important to prepare for all the things that could be thrown your way,"

The group are dismissed and Rosalie decides she's going to do something that she knows she can handle to begin with. Walking over to the table she was eyeing up before, the brunette takes no time in falling back into a home routine. Her fingers quickly and effortlessly weave the materials to construct a fishing hook - a flimsy one but a fish hook nonetheless.

"Your family work with them a lot?" Zachariah questions from beside her which cause her to jump.

"They're from District Four, so yes. Your's didn't?" She responds.

"Nah not really. My dad fixes boats and my mother is a cook. We don't do much of the actually fishing,"

"My father and brothers love it,"

The older male nods his head before leaving her be, moving somewhere that he believes will be more beneficial to him. Rosalie decides that she must also find some sort of weapons training to be involved in today, knowing she is probably going to need it at some point.

Knives seem to stick out to her, probably being one of the only weapons she'll be able to handle without falling over. Her accuracy, however, is yet to be tested. So, she approaches when it's empty. The last thing she needs is for the others around her to be judging her for her lack of skill.

Her fingers grab one daintily, allowing it to settle in the palm of her hand as she adjusts to the weight of it. Rosalie stands before the target and breathes in deeply before throwing it as hard as she can. To her credit, it sticks into the target but it's as far as possible from the centre. A small string of curse words fall from her lips as she grabs another, throwing it with equal force. This time, it clangs against the floor.

"You should probably practice that more," One of the careers sneer as she struts past, a knowing smirk evident on her face. "Hate for your aim to be the reason you die, four,"

The Career picks one of the knives up and launches it. Rosalie watches as it sinks right into the centre of the target without any effort at all. The girl from two practically circles around her, using her height to try and intimidate the brunette.

"You know in the past, we've allied with District Four but this year — this year you are just another tribute that I will take out before I go home," She hisses before roughly pushing past the brunette who stumbles clumsily.

The following days consist of the same thing, Rosalie finding empty stations and using them for a little while before moving on. Finnick had instructed her to try out as many things as she can because a lot of those weapons probably won't even show up in the arena. Knives are almost a guarantee so she continues going back there everyday, her aim getting a little better ever time.

Her hands are currently enclosed around a bow and arrow, something that she is extremely struggling with. The shakiness of her body does nothing but hinder her aiming ability, something she will have to contest with in the arena — her nerves will more than likely be the death of her or at least a contributing factor.

The brunette takes a deep breath and aims before shooting another arrow, number ten she believes. This is the first one to actually pierce the target and it brings a small amount of giddiness. Most would see her efforts as close to abysmal but she's willing to take what she can get.

Rosalie hears the now familiar snort of the District Two girl as she walks by, but she's learned to tune it out and focus. For whatever reason, this girl seems to have pinned a target on her and won't rest until she's gone.

She shoots a few more arrows before deciding to move on to the knives again before she has to leave. After a few, she gets into the rhythm again and lands some good throws. When she grabs the final one and launches it, she watches with wide eyes as it hits bullseye.

"Well, finally. Maybe now in the arena you'll be able to hit a limb instead of the grass," District Two speaks with a smug expression. "If you even live long enough to get your hands on a weapon that is,"

The last part makes Rosalie shutter lightly, the pure viciousness in the girl's tone sending shivers down her spine.

If you live long enough.

NOTE!

Hi! Sorry it's been a while, I was a little unmotivated. I really hope you enjoyed this chapter even though it's pretty uneventful and boring. Thank you for stopping by!