[She watches as Clove dives in the direction of the arrow. Watches with wide, observant eyes. There's no reaction. Her face is passive. She should be surprised, maybe even upset. That hadn't been her intention. She had meant to draw blood this time, yes. To violate the treaty once and for all. But someplace inconsequential. Someplace that really wouldn't matter all that much in the end.
But Clove ducks and the arrow scratches her cheek. The red blood, so very, very red, pours down her face. It's partially the rain water, partially the expected result of a head wound. She stands there and watches mesmerized. All the blood. When was the last time she saw that much blood come from a human being? The draft, she thinks. That stupid, awful draft where she had been nothing more than a pawn in a war again. At least the last one she had cared something about.
When the girl lunges towards her, she stays still. The attack is expected. What's not is the lack of knives. But it works to Katniss' advantage. She lets go of her precious bow and lets Clove tackle her to the ground. The grass is wet against her wings, the fall painful. But she doesn't let that phase her, pushes the sudden pain away. All she can do is react. Her palms press against the girl's shoulder, trying to over take her and flip them over. Get on top or keep them rolling in the muddy grass.]
action;
But Clove ducks and the arrow scratches her cheek. The red blood, so very, very red, pours down her face. It's partially the rain water, partially the expected result of a head wound. She stands there and watches mesmerized. All the blood. When was the last time she saw that much blood come from a human being? The draft, she thinks. That stupid, awful draft where she had been nothing more than a pawn in a war again. At least the last one she had cared something about.
When the girl lunges towards her, she stays still. The attack is expected. What's not is the lack of knives. But it works to Katniss' advantage. She lets go of her precious bow and lets Clove tackle her to the ground. The grass is wet against her wings, the fall painful. But she doesn't let that phase her, pushes the sudden pain away. All she can do is react. Her palms press against the girl's shoulder, trying to over take her and flip them over. Get on top or keep them rolling in the muddy grass.]