Cato, District 2 Tribute (prideof2) wrote in madisonvalley, @ 2013-11-17 02:58:00 |
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Entry tags: | !closed, !log, ~2013 november, ~25 points, ~~cato (prideof2), ~~clove (clove) |
WHO: Cato and Clove
WHERE: Near the park entrance
WHAT: Reuniting
WHEN: Saturday night
WARNINGS: Language/Violence, TBD
STATUS: Closed/Ongoing
Cato had a hidden perch in a tree not far from the gate house where he'd told Clove to meet him, with nothing obstructing his line of sight. He was close enough that he'd be able to see her clearly, and make a decision for himself if she was real or not - but not close enough for her to hear him if he shifted his weight, or if the wind decided to ruffle his jacket. He hoped it was her - shit, he hoped so much - but he'd held her hand as she died. If there was some freaky time travel shit going on here, that could explain it...but how insane was that?
He wouldn't go so far as to say she was his friend. Career tributes didn't have friends. You couldn't get attached to people like that. Not when you might have to kill them, or watch them die. You couldn't break like that, not when your life hung in the balance. If you were going to survive, you had to be strong, emotionally and physically, without attachment, and without the weakness that friendship brought. Friendship was nothing if not a weakness. All the things that defined it - fondness, trust - made you vulnerable, and vulnerability got you killed. It was that simple.
And he would have killed her, if he'd had to. He knew that beyond a shadow of a doubt; if he'd had to kill her to survive, he would have. He hadn't come as far as he had, trained as hard as he had, just to die. And she didn't matter in the end. She was just a girl he'd been training with for years, better than some, worse than others.
But he sure hadn't liked watching her die.
He wasn't in the mood to examine those particular feelings, though, and instead watched carefully as he saw a figure make her way up the road towards the guardhouse. It looked like Clove. Walked like Clove. If it wasn't her...then it was a pretty damned good mutt.
He let himself fall from the tree to the ground, silently, and edged closer to her, coming up behind her, wondering how long it would take for her to notice him there.