There are a lot of assumptions people make about Clara. That she's sweet, kind, compassionate. And all those assumptions are true. But along with all of those is this assumption that Clara can't take care of herself. Sure, she doesn't have the training and she doesn't know how to fight. The fact that she's one of the lowest scoring Tributes in the Arena makes that abundantly clear. But just because she doesn't know that doesn't mean she's completely clueless when it comes to certain, more primal aspects of fighting. She has no form, she has no training, but she knows how to dodge shit and how to move fast from years of playing softball as a kid.

Which is the only reason the tip of the bat grazes her upper arm instead of hitting her square in the chest. Which hurts like a bitch, but she'll worry about that later. Logically, she knows she shouldn't stand a chance against Venus who has a much higher score than her, but really, if she wants to be sure that she can try to see Alex through to the end of the Arena so that he can win, she's going to have to do her damnedest to stay alive.

"Venus, you don't have to do this," Clara says as she edges back, bringing out the knife she grabbed earlier. "We can both walk away from this."