#vita2

He was sitting in the MLTA.  For the most part, most tributes were sleeping in, adapting to Capitol lifestyle of luxury as it were.  He had been up since the crack of dawn; for him it was like clockwork, up at 4:45 to catch the sunrise and get right to work.  There were no breaks, day-offs, just work, work, and more work.  Sitting here waiting for the arena was threatening to make him go stir-crazy.

Presently, he was reading a note written by his mentorAmoremorally,

``Dear TAC.  A little birdie told me that you didn't like my special shake I slaved over making for you so you could continue to indulge yourself in rare steak and cupcakes galore.  Well, turns out I've been too fucking nice so, guess what lumberjack, no more cupcakes until you apologize for complaining to SKILL how bad it was!  That's an order!

Withlove,

Amorem.

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.

Felix finished at knot tying, his fingers aching, but he was certain he knew how to tie an Arbor knot perfectly. He looked at the survival skills he could take, and suddenly he saw it. The rope course. He practically sprinted over there. He lived all of his life, climbing ropes. It was his job, that’s how he helped his family survive. If he could do anything, it was this. He walked up to the instructor, and was quickly filled in on the ups and downs of the course was, how he would do it, the safety precautions, yada yada yada. He just wanted to get on this thing.