#atlas4

There hadn't been a time where he felt more relaxed at any other stations beside this one.  Day three's training was strictly focused upon stations he knew he already succeeded in.  This indefinitely included axes, a weapon he was all too familiar with courtesy of his occupation back at District Seven.  Strong hands grabbed the first axe out of the rack of axes to choose from that seemed even remotely familiar to him.  It was a two-sided, felling axe.  There were many different kinds to choose from, but it seemed like the most familiar to TAC personally.  No doubt this was a heavy instrument for most, but not for TAC.

He tossed the axe lightly in his hands, eye scanning the girth and length of the tool while simultaneously gauging the weight of the tool in its entirety.  The handle was made of some sort of tempered-steel ore, and it felt cold in his hands. Something didn't seem to bode well with the young man concerning this particular axe, so he returned it quietly to the rack, making for one that looked very similar.  He made for a similar axe with a wooden handle.  The same diagnostic test was conducted, and a faint smile played across his features.  This is the one, he thought to himself.

The course design was.. grim.  There were a bunch of training dummies who were in the form of men and woman, as well as some tall trees of varying thickness scattered throughout.  Trainers littered the grounds wearing extra big goggles as if to help enhance their vision.  This was no doubt a dangerous course with the perils of falling trees and generally heavier weaponry.  

TAC couldn't help but laugh in his head though, these 'trees', if one could even call them that, were puny at best, no bigger than his pinkie finger.  For someone like TAC, it would take less than three good, full-body swings to fell the skinny timber.  The instructor advised him to wait until the other tributes to arrive, so he waited, taking the time to examine the pseudo-flora to determine exactly how fast he could cut the bastards down.