[Rue sighed reluctantly. It wasn't the first time she'd heard it; when Chaff was mentoring them for the game, he told them to embrace their anger. That every target was what they hated the most and remembering that would keep them alive.
She drew another arrow and raised her bow, taking aim at the target. She tried to imagine it as a deer, tall and proud, a meal that would feed her family for at least a month. Their stomachs would be full of meat, the hide could be turned into clothing or a blanket they could huddle under. It would sustain them at the cost of its life.
But the image failed to hold. When she released the arrow, it was the target again, and her arrow once more landed off-center.
Rue huffed and drew another arrow. Something that would come after someone she cared about...
She remembered a Peacekeeper. His name she never knew, though now it was irrelevant, but she remember his face. He wasn't old, maybe in his late, thirties, but there was a grizzled look. His eyes were pale blue like and his nose was crooked. There was always a toothpick in his mouth and he never smiled unless he was whipping children.
Rue straightened up. She placed his face at the center of his target, remember how he would smile as the whip came down and blood and cries filled the air.
The arrow flew straight and pierced him through his nose.]
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She drew another arrow and raised her bow, taking aim at the target. She tried to imagine it as a deer, tall and proud, a meal that would feed her family for at least a month. Their stomachs would be full of meat, the hide could be turned into clothing or a blanket they could huddle under. It would sustain them at the cost of its life.
But the image failed to hold. When she released the arrow, it was the target again, and her arrow once more landed off-center.
Rue huffed and drew another arrow. Something that would come after someone she cared about...
She remembered a Peacekeeper. His name she never knew, though now it was irrelevant, but she remember his face. He wasn't old, maybe in his late, thirties, but there was a grizzled look. His eyes were pale blue like and his nose was crooked. There was always a toothpick in his mouth and he never smiled unless he was whipping children.
Rue straightened up. She placed his face at the center of his target, remember how he would smile as the whip came down and blood and cries filled the air.
The arrow flew straight and pierced him through his nose.]