[Philosophy -- thoughts of love, life, death, fear, hope -- vanish the moment the arrow is drawn. Clove's body isn't as fast as her mind, but she knows what this means. She prepares to dodge, and it slices through her sleeve. Poor aim? No. Twelve's too good for that. A warning. The stand-off between one pack member and another.
She'd done it in the Arena, among the Careers. They all had. Establishing how far they could be pushed and when they wouldn't stand for it any more. Always, they fell into silent disharmony, ignoring each other.
So, Clove does what she did once to Glimmer. She pulls out a knife from her vest and, in the very same movement, throws it. The blade buries deep into the ground ... right in front of Twelve. If it hadn't been angled down, it would at least have gone into the stomach. The throat, if she'd aimed higher.
Without another word, she has her hand on another knife. Not pulling it out, but ready to, and her whole body's changed. Her muscles are tense, she leans forward, and her knees are bent, her weight on the balls of her feet. She is ready to attack, the most intimidating she can look.]
action;
She'd done it in the Arena, among the Careers. They all had. Establishing how far they could be pushed and when they wouldn't stand for it any more. Always, they fell into silent disharmony, ignoring each other.
So, Clove does what she did once to Glimmer. She pulls out a knife from her vest and, in the very same movement, throws it. The blade buries deep into the ground ... right in front of Twelve. If it hadn't been angled down, it would at least have gone into the stomach. The throat, if she'd aimed higher.
Without another word, she has her hand on another knife. Not pulling it out, but ready to, and her whole body's changed. Her muscles are tense, she leans forward, and her knees are bent, her weight on the balls of her feet. She is ready to attack, the most intimidating she can look.]