Suppressing a yawn, especially seeing how he had spent a few hours speaking with Milo, down in the training center, Ecthelion had made his way to his district’s floor, attempting to find slumber. The only thing coming to him however, was the toss and turns due to the jumble of his nerves, causing the lack of sleep to slowly instil itself in him.
Stomping to his feet, he put on some shirt he had tossed on the floor prior to that night, smoothing the wrinkles from the lack of disposition it had gotten. Blinking of his eyes, he put on slippers, then headed to the top of the building where he believed he could find quietude, the wind blowing being his only companion. He had been at fault, seeing how many other tributes sat on the floor, scattered here and there.
What had previously been a state of bliss, though intertwined with nervousness, had morphed into being annoyed with the amount of sounds, those louder than white noise, thus hard to be ignored. As he felt a pair of eyes landing on him, he turned his gaze towards them, his mouth’s corners pulled down in a scowl.
“What?”
He had snapped. There was no longer anything between him and the arena, aside of that night, which he would’ve preferred spending asleep.