Every arena was different, in the end, but they started the same for Wyatt. It was strangely comforting, that one familiarity in the ever changing landscape. Like an old friend, he gathered his apprehension to him and let it strengthen his muscles, sharpen his focus, as the pedestal climbed into the damp and the heat. Into the swaying field of green that immediately set of the warnings in the back of his head.
He'd gotten rather good at spotting the Gamemakers death traps when he saw them.
One of the rare pluses of being around as long as he had.
Scanning across the tips of the grass he squinted at the Cornucopia, aligning himself to the gleaming horn, preparing to make the break as soon as the cannon crashed.
Another breath, his heart near a hum then in his ears. He glanced at the faces closest, noting those to avoid, hoping for Howard, maybe Doc, or maybe even....
Everything went still. He couldn't feel the wind on his face, or hear his drumming heart. There was only the denial snapping through him, a full-bodied reaction, sticking him to the pedestal. His neat plans falling away as the cannon boomed. Leaving him with nothing but a curse stuck in the back of his throat, and the terrifying uncertainty if what he'd seen was even real as he pushed belatedly off the platform and into the grass.
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Every arena was different, in the end, but they started the same for Wyatt. It was strangely comforting, that one familiarity in the ever changing landscape. Like an old friend, he gathered his apprehension to him and let it strengthen his muscles, sharpen his focus, as the pedestal climbed into the damp and the heat. Into the swaying field of green that immediately set of the warnings in the back of his head.
He'd gotten rather good at spotting the Gamemakers death traps when he saw them.
One of the rare pluses of being around as long as he had.
Scanning across the tips of the grass he squinted at the Cornucopia, aligning himself to the gleaming horn, preparing to make the break as soon as the cannon crashed.
Another breath, his heart near a hum then in his ears. He glanced at the faces closest, noting those to avoid, hoping for Howard, maybe Doc, or maybe even....
Everything went still. He couldn't feel the wind on his face, or hear his drumming heart. There was only the denial snapping through him, a full-bodied reaction, sticking him to the pedestal. His neat plans falling away as the cannon boomed. Leaving him with nothing but a curse stuck in the back of his throat, and the terrifying uncertainty if what he'd seen was even real as he pushed belatedly off the platform and into the grass.