Orland Corrado
May was ahead of me in the hall, so I sped up and scooted around her to hold the door open. She gave me a funny look.
"What's that for?" she asked.
"Gentlemen hold open doors for ladies," I said.
"Why? I can open my own door," she said. She wasn't mad, she just sounded confused.
"Oh," I said. Maybe it was just a Ten thing. "It's just something my grandfather told me."
"Oh, okay. Thanks," she said. I went in after her and she looked over her shoulder at me.
"You got something you want to say?" she asked.
"I was just wondering if a lovely lady like yourself was looking for a partner," I asked. She stopped to look at me.
"I suppose you mean you," she said.
"I don't see any better partners," I said.
"Why me?" she asked.
"I need someone who can keep up with me," I said. "You seem up to the challenge." I'd scoped out May before I approached her. She wasn't gullible or anything, but she would respond better to spurring than flattery. And I knew she hated being called Maple, and that was probably the most important thing I could do.
"What would you bring to an alliance?" May asked. I knew I'd made the right choice. She was in this to win.
"I've been working on firemaking and finding food, and next I'm going to try to find a weapon," I said. She took a minute to consider.
"Those are good. You probably saw me working with the axes. I know a few woodland plants, so if you focus on other environments we can get everything covered," she said.
"Then it's a deal?" I asked.
"If you can keep up," she said. She was clever, tough, and as witty as I was. If this wasn't the Arena, I might have fallen in love.
May Wilda
It might have been a waste of time to practice with a weapon I already knew, but I didn't think so. Just because I worked with axes didn't mean I was good at fighting with them. I'd thrown them a few times for fun, but we didn't stand around all day chucking axes at trees in Seven. Usually we used them to cut down trees, and I had less experience than most people in my District, since I did indoor work when I could. I wasn't just stroking my vanity by sticking to the weapon I knew best. I had to go from above average to expert if I wanted to be able to make full use of my weapon.
Orland was trying to learn a weapon just because it was prudent, and when he came to the axe station, he had a few choice words. He oohed in appreciation when I hit a dummy in the head. I tended to vocalize when I threw, since it pushed out breath and gave my throw more force, and he found that amusing.
"May's a good name, but your last name could use some work," he said as the axe quivered in the gelatinous head. "It should have just been Wild." That was way funnier than Mati's cheesy jokes.
At first I was reluctant to ally with Orland, but when I heard he was learning about survival, I changed my mind. If he knew about survival stuff, that left me free to focus on weapons. It was sort of dark, but I felt ready to kill something. Not some little kid who didn't want to be here either, but someone. Probably a Career, though I wasn't going to go pick a fight with them. What I really wanted to kill was a Capitolite, but that was just a fantasy. I was just so mad at them for dragging me into this and dragging anyone into this. As I threw my axe at dummies, I imagined them with tacky Capitol clothes and those ridiculous beards like trimmed hedges.
Weaponry just seemed like such a rebellious skill. We weren't supposed to be able to use weapons in Panem. Seven had such an advantage because axes were pretty necessary for lumber work. The Capitol couldn't get around that one. Now, entirely because of them, I was learning how to kill. Maybe they should have thought that through a little better.
I should have been getting tired, but I didn't want to stop throwing axes at imaginary Gamemakers. It was so satisfying to see their heads split open and watch the fake brains ooze out. I threw harder each time.