I wasn’t in a good place when I left Alaska. All of these what ifs were circling around in my head and I needed to concentrate on something so that I didn’t let all of it consume me. I had a few hours until I had to meet Cosmo and I needed to fill them doing something. If I went up to the suite I would just sit and think and bury myself in thoughts that were only going to fuck me up this far out from the arena.
The tracking station was practically calling my name, pine trees and thick underbrush covering the floor as I stepped inside. The trainer explaining that he had hidden a pack deep within the woods and I’d be timed on how quickly and efficiently I could find it; he pointed me in the direction of the starting point. I drew in a deep breath, nodding as the trainer called go as my gaze flickered around on the ground. I could pretend that I was just playing, that Waldo had decided a game of hide and seek was in order and as I saw my first broken stick I was already pretending. I craned my head, trying to hear some sort of noise but finding myself following a path of destruction until I reached a snow bank. A few footsteps were visible but the light dusting of snow made it harder to see. Glancing up I searched the trees for any sign that he had clambered upwards but came up with nothing.
Sighing I turned my attention back to the snow, leaning down to brush away some of the layers when I finally spotted a green leaf that had been trudged through on the trainers shoe. I got up and started back on the trail, picking my way through the snow until I reached a muddy track. There was so many shoe prints it was hard to make sense of all of them and I found myself turning in circles as I tried to figure out which one was right. Bending down I inspected each set. Nope too small. Too big and finally finding one that looked like it could work. I don’t know how long I had been in here but I finally ended back up in the woods and saw a scuff on a tree. Glancing up I saw the bag and found myself grinning from ear to ear. Waldo would be laughing by now, blowing raspberries at me from his place in the tree and it was with this image in my head that I began to climb. My brother’s laughter ringing in my ears as my fingers gripped around the pack.
While the puzzles and strategic stations seemed to spark my interest, I figured medical training would be of more use, especially since I hadn't seen Amarillo visit there. If I was going to get hurt in the arena, I was going to know how to fix myself, too.
Taking the medical book first, I decided to read about the injuries before actually treating one. Flipping to the burns, I already knew how to treat those. When I was ten, I burned my entire hand on a tray in the oven, and it was classified as third-degree, according to the District doctor. Burns were common, being a baker. I could treat those just fine.
It was the infection and stitching that needed work. I turn to the tabs that discussed those subjects and took a needle from beside me, threading it as the pictures demonstrated. My mother sewed clothes for me; it couldn't be so hard. Instead of fabric, though, it'd be skin.
Infections were an issue. I couldn't prevent infection in the arena, and there wasn't a way to prevent it as a whole. However, the book showed ways to treat it, and if I could get the supplies from sponsors that I needed to treat infection, I'd be in good shape.
Slicing through a dummy's arm, fake blood oozed out of the wound I'd made. I applied a salve to it to prevent infection and took my needle from the table, beginning to sew the skin together.
This was more disgusting than I bargained for--even on a dummy. Wincing, I bit my lip as I pushed the needle through the skin, my hand shaky. If I needed to perform this on another tribute, I'd wind up stabbing them, or worse, killing them.
Focusing, I managed to loop through the fake skin, leaving it somewhat sewn together by the time I'd finished. Taking a match, I burned the skin below it to heal. Referring to the book, I'd made a second-degree burn. If I wanted salve for this, I needed sponsorship points; but instead, I apply from the canister in front of me.
Taking the knife, I saw off the dummy's hand to make a tourniquet. I ripped a piece of fabric from the kit I'd been given, wrapping it tightly around the stump I'd made in the dummy. The excessive bleeding ceased, which must've been a good sign.
Stuffing its contents back inside, I close the first aid kit and head off.
After parting from Rusty I decided the best way to past my time was by myself. I didn’t need to deal with another tribute’s shitty attitude, especially when my head felt like a thousand tiny hammers were trying to bang out a dance beat against my skull. I rubbed my temple, cursing Opal again for fucking up my morning.
I shook my head as I moved to the next station, finding a snake curled around a bunny that it was squeezing to death. Its tongue darted out as I watched it and I immediately shivered. I hated these things already and I’d barely been here for five damn minutes. Moving to the next simulated environment the harsh overhead lights beat down on sand, I squinted as I tried to pick out the animal inside. Finally spotting a stick looking lizard as its tongue snaked out to catch a fly that was looming above it. I continued to wander finding spiders, lizards, snakes and even a case full of tracker jackers who flew at the glass like they could actually see me. Was it normal to be freaked out by all these creepy crawlies? I hated the thought of encountering them in the arena and didn’t know exactly what I was going to face in a few days’ time.
Moving to the table in the middle of the room I picked up a tablet, flicking through the pages of a manual on animals. A picture emblazoned on the top of the screen and their name before a quick run down of where they were found and what they could be used for. The amount of poisonous and venomous shit was starting to freak me out but I continued to read. Losing myself in the tedious task of learning all about the wildlife that the Capitol had created and animals that I was used to. I glanced up suddenly when the mockingjays in one of the glass cabinets perked up again, a sad song starting up as its companions joined in. It felt like even they knew that the end was drawing near.
What a station. Putting things you shouldn't eat with things you should; better keep your wits about you, I thought walking into the Poisons and Edible Plants station. I saw plants laid out all around the station and a book on a table by the door. I picked it up and quickly flipped through the pages. It had an explanation of every plant that I could see in the tent and how to identify them.
I picked a plant at random and flipped though the book until I found the picture that matched up. Once I figured I had enough information, I went on to the next plant. However, when I turned back to the one before my mind was wiped blank. I rubbed my temples in frustration. This wasn't as easy as I thought.
This was like when my dad tried to teach me how to properly cook a blowfish. He explained to me, when I was 11 that the blowfish had particular parts that were poisonous and other parts that were edible. My dad pointed to each section and said two words. Either skull or life. He would repeat himself many times until I could point to each section and say either skull or life correctly. It took a couple of days, but I was a whiz at it now and could show someone how to do it right this second.
As I thought about my father, I decided to employ that technique. I took a row of plants and played this game with myself. I would walk amongst the plants and point to each one trying to memorize the edible and poisonous plants. After I had got them all right twice in a row, I would go on to the next one.
I repeated my technique, really getting into it, happy that a memory of my family didn't make me sad, but helped me out. I sent a silent thanks to my parents, giving me advice even now.
Once I could look at a plant and confidently identify them I took the ultimate test. I went to two plants that looked almost identical and took the fruit of one to taste it. I knew this was risky, but they wouldn't let me die this way.
I plopped it in my mouth and with difficulty swallowed the small berry. I smiled as I recognized the distinct taste of blueberries. I threw my fist in the air and dropped the book back on the table. It was one of the most successful stations I had been at.
Maybe If I Squint || Training in Twilight || Rusty & Oren
Stepping inside the room I found myself squinting as my eyes tried to accustom to darkness. The moon and stars twinkled overhead but I could make out a few clouds that rolled across the sky. Blanking out the light every now and then before moving on to let the light shine once more. As I moved further inside I could make out the trees that dotted the landscape, finally coming to sit beneath a tree. The smell of pines wafted around me and I was reminded of home.
With a sigh I sat in the dark, bristling when I saw a shadowy figure step inside. I squinted and I couldn't recognise him but he blindly made his way towards me. "A little to the left."
Sticks and Stones || Challah & Bruno || Shelter Building
Figuring the last day of training would be a hectic one, I decided to get started as early as I could. Brecon had advised us to get to as many stations as possible, and honestly, I didn't think it was going to happen, but I might as well try. At least the strategics weren't as painful as weapon training.
Heading over to the shelter building station, I found another tribute already there. Glancing at his shoulder, I cursed under my breath as I found it was the boy from One--the one Alaska had warned me about yesterday. Shaking my head, I wasn't going to let him get to me. Not like Alaska had, anyway.
Though he seemed hard to avoid, I gathered my supplies, examining an already built shelter that the trainers had made. The structure was far from simple, and I didn't think I'd ever get to that point, though a few leaves over my head was better than nothing.