#tbpday2

 He looked out across the skyline of the arena. Killing and competition aside, it was kind of pretty. He looked back down and really saw how high up he was, sighing at the realization.

He could jump, but the likeliness of him surviving was really small. Even if he did, something was bound to break. His best bet was to crash the damn hut somewhere, and hope he didn’t get hurt too bad. That was when he remembered the animal feed he was ‘prized’ with. It was firm, but it would probably help with cushioning the crash.

He turned back to the dispenser, hatchet in hand. He could ‘win’ the game over and over again, or he could just be impatient. Kindle brought his hatchet down on the dispenser, large bags of feed popping out as quickly as they could. His arm ached, but he still picked up bag after back and made sort of a large bed with them. When he was finished he made his way back to the open door of the hut, taking a deep breath and climbing out and up to the roof.

Heights never really bothered Kindle, but slipping and falling to his death wasn’t exactly how he saw himself going out of this arena. He made it to the top of the roof and held onto the strings that attached the hut to the balloon. It was giant and red, an obvious foreign object in the sky. He wondered how long it took the other tributes to see his stupidity. Kindle just had to pick the hut.

He looked around to see where his best bet would be to crash the balloon. He didn’t get to spend a lot of time in the manor, following around the lovebirds didn’t warrant him a lot of exploration. It was probably a deadly idea to crash into the side of the manor, so he opted to crash next to it.

Taking his hatchet, he slashed a decent sized hole into the balloon, maneuvering it right to blow him toward the manor.

He picked up a few stones from the rocky ground and pocketed them. He pulled his pack off and pulled out a peach, splitting it in half and eating part of it.  Next, Kindle made sure there was still a little salt left in his pocket from when he had a slingshot. He wasn’t sure how he was going to deal with a hypnotizing giant peacock, but he could use his imagination.

Lastly, Kindle pulled his over shirt off and wrapped it around his left arm, keeping his dominant one bare. He pulled his pack back on and began climbing again, knowing he had the bird’s full attention.

“Fucking birds. Why did it have to be birds?”

As he got closer he could hear the bird get restless. Kindle was clearly too close to something that the bird was guarding. He tried his best not to look at the feathers or its eyes, his own trained to the floor and watching the bird’s feet.

The peacock stretched out and tried pecking at Kindle who jumped back to avoided it’s beak.

“You want to peck, you son of a bitch? What, you’re hungry? How about this?” He asked.

Kindle pulled out the half of fruit he saved, waving it around and watching the shadow of the bird’s head follow the fruit. It tried reaching for the peach but Kindle pulled it back.

“Not so fast, fucker. Come and get it.” He said.

The bird made a funny sound before stepping closer. Kindle took another step back, making the bird work for its small meal. Finally, it grew impatient, lunging at Kindle’s hand. He brought his left arm up as the bird latched on. Even with the cover of his shirt it still really fucking hurt.

“Ah!” he shouted, throwing the fruit down.

He dug into his pocket and shoved the Epsom salt into the peacocks eyes, making it screech and jump back. It shook its head around, trying to get the salt out of its eyes. Kindle still wouldn’t look at it, trusting its shadows and feet. He went into his other pocket and pulled out the rocks he picked up.

He tossed one away from him, making the peacock to think he was moving. He tossed another the other way to confuse it further. The peacock lifted its feathers and began shimmering its feathers, but Kindle kept his eyes trained to the ground. He threw a final rock away from him and when the bird turned its head, Kindle charged forward. He put his covered arm up again as he pulled out his hatchet. When he collided with the peacock he blindly began hacking away at it’s feathers, making it screech more and try to peck at his face. He kept his arm up to take the blows, feeling his shirt tear more.

So much for a decent over shirt. He thought.

When he deemed the feathers damaged enough he risked a look and saw them badly mangled, enough to wear the bird could barely lift them anymore. That didn’t stop it from attacked though. Kindle’s lowered guard earned him a peck in his side.

He shouted in pain, jumping back before it could do too much damage.

“Fucking birds,” He spat. “You’re better on a fucking plate!”

He jumped at the bird, hatchet raised, and brought it down onto its neck. It wasn’t sharp enough to cut right through, so he kept chopping. He yelled the entire time, bringing cutting at its neck until the bird’s head was severed off and it’s neck was mangled and disgusting.

As an added bonus, Kindle kicked the fucking bird down the hill like it did to him.

The murky water must have had some kind of bacteria or algae in it. Kindle noticed Buggie scratching at his leg as well, but Jasper seemed to be doing fine. It made Kindle think that the horsetail helped him.

“Is there still leftover of that plant left? The horsetail?” He asked Jasper

Jasper noticed the wounds on his allies, digging into his bag for the plant. While he broke it apart and turned it into a paste, Kindle pulled his top shirt off and examined the shirtsleeves. Taking his hatchet, he cut them off along with about an inch off the bottom of the shirt. He pulled it back on and tore the shirtsleeves into three sections each. He tore the bottom of his shirt in half and set part aside. Using a little of one of his bottles of water, he dampened the other part of the cloth.

Kindle held his breath and he rubbed his scratches and cleaned the greenish scabbing off. It stung, but he was sure it would hurt much more if he left it to fester. As he cleaned his wounds, Jasper knelt down next to him, ready with the paste. Kindle took a bit of it and pressed it into each of his three scratches, hissing at the stinging sensation. He took one of his sectioned sleeves and tide each part to another scratch, covering them as best he could.

When he was finished he looked at Buggie who was sitting on the other side of the tower.

“Let’s go, Flounder,” Kindle said. “It’s your turn.”

Buggie glared at Kindle, standing and making his way over. Kindle dampened the other part of the cloth he set aside and began cleaning out Buggie’s scratches.

“Ow!” He snapped. “Could you be a little gentler?”

“Quit your bitching and stand still!” Kindle snapped back.

He took the remainder of the paste and pushed it into Buggie’s scratches, tying them off with his other shirt sleeve sections.

With everyone’s wounds attended to, Jasper picked up his bag.

“As much as I appreciate you potentially saving us earlier, I think we need to go get those books back. They’re valuable, even if a mammoth is guarding them.” Jasper said.

“So what are you suggesting? Killing the mammoth and taking them back? That could very well not be the only one.” Kindle said.

Buggie nodded at Jasper. “I agree with you, we should get them back.”

Of course you agree with him. Kindle thought. He was so tired of being treated like some child just because he was the youngest out of all of them.

“Well then, I guess it’s settled. Let’s get going before it goes too far, shall we?” Jasper suggested.

Buggie picked up his things and followed after Jasper.

“You guys go on ahead, I’m going to stay and keep watch of the tower. In case anyone else tries taking it over, you know? Besides, there isn’t much me and my measly hatchet can do against an animal that size.” Kindle said.

The two older tributes looked at each other and nodded.

“Alright then,” Jasper said. “We’ll be back as soon as we can. Be safe.”

“No problem,” Kindle said. “Oh hey, take these. Breakfast on me.”

He threw two of his peaches at Buggie and Jasper who caught them with no problem. They thanked him and headed down to go after the mammoth.

Kindle looked around before sighing. He bet they thought he was scared to take on the beast with them, but really he just needed time. Time to do what he needed to do.

He took his newly acquired pack and put all his fruit and baked goods as well as his other supplies into it. He put his hatchet through a belt loop and his slingshot in another belt loop, filling one of his pockets with Epsom salt. He gave the others a five minute head start before throwing his pack over his shoulders and climbing down the tower. The area was quiet and it put an unsettling feeling in Kindle’s stomach. He had to do this, though. How long before his allies became his enemies? He’s surprised neither tried to kill him in their sleep.

At least I feel like I am. I try to hide the fact that my leg is extremely sore from all the kicking Rex had me doing yesterday. I’m still pissed he barely moved, even when I put all my weight on him. Am I really that weak?

Rex is tossing more tributes to the ground when I approach the unarmed station.

“Come back for more, kid?” He asks.

“I told you I wanted to learn Muay Thai, and I plan on doing just that.” I respond.

“Well your stamina is laughable, but your determination is inspiring. It warms my heart.”

“Really?”

Maybe Rex isn’t as bad as I think he is. He’s handsome, there’s no denying that, but his attitude leaves much to be desired. Maybe I’m looking at him all wrong.

“No, now dress your hands so we can get started.” Rex says.

Nevermind.

Rex is going to make me hurt again and I’m going to hate every minute of it.

I wrap my hands and put the gloves on as he explains the different stances and maneuvers. Of course I pick one of the martial arts that requires mostly leg work. I’m pretty sure they’re going to replace my leg with a prosthetic when I’m finished these training days.

“Alright,” Rex says. “Let’s see how much you weren’t listening to. Try to hit me.”

As I jab and kick, I realize I actually like this whole Muay Thai thing. Especially when sometimes my hits make Rex wince slightly.

Hey, I’ll take any victory no matter how small.

My body is flexible, and this is probably the first time I’m thankful for it. Well…the first time I’m okay with being thankful for it. Because I’m lighter I also have a bit of a speed advantage against my heavier opponents. Rex is just a tad slower than me thanks to his muscular frame.

He starts hitting back, making me jump around to try and avoid his hands and feet. For the most part I get it down, but he manages to hit me more often than not.

Finally I try the roundhouse kick he talked about earlier, with disastrous results. Rex grabs my ankle and spins me off my other leg, throwing me on my back.

It really shouldn’t be as hot as I think it is.

“That sucked slightly less than yesterday. I think you’re getting the hang out of it, though. Keep practicing with the holograms until you think you’re finished.” Rex says.

That damn, handsome bastard.

I pull myself off the ground, and grab some water. Fighting is hard, and I really don’t like hard work, but if it means I survive even a day longer…then I’m willing to do it.