Clove:
My throwing grew harder and harder as I twisted, rolled, flipped, and jumped at my target. The tree wasn't much help, and was an easy target, but I needed to practice on something. A flock of birds came into view, and I aimed at the fattest one, way in the back, it was a quick second decision, but I nailed the bird in the neck, and it fell from the flock into the nearby river. It was the most entertaining thing, I let a laugh slip out of my mouth, and I forgot Cato was lying on the ground by the rocks as he laughed, also entertained with my actions. What could I say, killing was in my blood. And I was ready for the games.
At the reaping, they didn't choose from a ball, instead, they chose the top two students in the training, one boy and one girl obviously, and for the past eleven months, that had been Cato and I. I was anxious; to cut flesh, see the blood stream out of the cold body. That would be more entertaining than the stupid bird.
I had waited for years, to throw my knives, painfully to a tribute's chest, slicing them to pieces, as their families at home cried and cried for me to stop, but instead, I would smile, to the crowd I would soak in my chance at a victory.
I walked over to Cato, tossing my knives in the air, and catching them without even trying. I liked the feeling of the blade ripping against my skin in my hand, over and over, until I threw it at the ground and sat across from Cato. "You ready for tomorrow?" My bloodthirsty eyes locked on his face as he grinned up at me.
"I'm vicious, and I am ready to go." His stare locked on my knives that my hands concealed. I turned my hands face up to find that blood was dripping down from the palm of my hand to the green grass. Drip, BOOM the sound of cannon rushed through my eyes with each drop, BOOM, BOOM, BOOM. The sound, made me want to kill, to throw my knives deep into the tribute's chest. To be the victor.
Cato took my bloody hands in his, as he got up and went to the river. He plucked a big leave from one of the trees and stuck it in the water; Cato gently ran it over my hand, sending a cold sensation that ran from my hand down my back. I looked up and smiled. He tossed the leave into the river, turning the beautiful blue into a crisp red, and took my hands in his. This was my best friend, Cato I knew he loved me and I loved him too, together, we were ready to go.
"I'm ready to go." I whispered.