Training went just as planned. When each tributes being brought into a deadly pit only for them to take knowledge of everything. Although not everyone being the best at mesmerizing every details, it was something that Coriolanus made sure that his tribute did so. As well as making sure that she held the ax all the way to the end of the session. From the on going orders from him, to the looping sweat dripping from her forehead, the heavy breath she would try to hold on for showing as much pride within Snow's eyes. Until it was informed that training went good today. Dr. Gaul being pleased by her students remarkable work, she made sure that upon the next training session, it will be the same.
Snow was pleased to discover the proficiency and prowess exhibited by his tribute. The display was something he wouldn't shy away from witnessing, even if it meant facing the grim reality of the Dummy being methodically dismembered. The thought crossed his mind that, had she been visually impaired, she could eliminate other tributes without affording them even a fleeting moment to catch their breath. "Well done." He remarked casually, taking the now sweaty ax from her grasp. Despite his nonchalant demeanor, Snow, as a mentor, made a point to highlight and commend her debut, hoping to create a spectacle that would resonate with the other tributes soon before they were returned to their respective enclosures.
Amidst the ongoing events, Coriolanus harbored an alternate agenda. He yearned to further acquaint her with the surroundings, hoping to instill in her a genuine belief in his intentions. His desire extended to liberating her from the confines of her own cursed enclosure, aiming to kindle within her a love for the all-encompassing beauty of the Capitol. However, his plans faced a setback as he lamented the passage of time. Despite the day being forecasted as dull and rainy, he was disheartened to witness the sun's graceful descent before dusk, signaling the conclusion of the day. To his unwelcome realization, Snow acknowledged that he would once again have to part ways with her.
"You didn't tell me the arena was so vast." Swan exclaimed, expressing her dismay as she felt the warmth of her feet in the chilly mud. Despite her discomfort, she attempted to brush away the nearly hardened remnants upon meeting her mentor at that moment. In a way, she was relieved that the training session had concluded, particularly considering the challenges she had encountered with her limited skills. Which she made sure to emphasize on it. "Not to mention... Some definitely need a skill check-up."
Coriolanus found himself both shocked and unsurprised by the snarky remark from his tribute. He pondered whether she had unintentionally adopted a snarky demeanor like his own or if she was simply becoming overly comfortable with him. Despite the surprise, he couldn't help but chuckle at her comment. "You might want to watch your tongue." Swan retorted, furrowing her brow and tilting her head. She was well aware of her mentor's efforts to maintain her attention and focus, especially after the unexpected morning surprise he had sprung on her. Had it not been for breakfast, Dr. Gaul would have likely ensured additional security around Snow's apartment, not that the tributes had any real chance of escaping, but just as a precautionary measure.
"Or what?"
Now it was Coriolanus who inclined his head, steadily advancing toward her. Despite the noticeable height disparity, he displayed no hesitation in exerting his influence over her. Occasionally, he could detect a moment when her gaze seemed to lose itself within his own. The bright blue haze of his eyes contrasting with her orange irises. "You might find yourself a leg or two short by the end of this week. We wouldn't want that, now would we?"
Swan couldn't help but roll her eyes in response to his question. While he was ultimately correct, she made a conscious effort not to display any sense of pride before him. As the others began cleaning the area and were dismissed back to the Zoo, she acknowledged the impossibility of maintaining such composure until the end. However, as she and Coriolanus found themselves alone in the aftermath of his plan at the Zoo, she couldn't shake a sense of unease brought on by the sheer size of the arena. "Maybe... we should head back as well?" She suggested, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.
However, Snow had already extended this offer, deeming it best for her to undergo another lesson before being escorted to the Zoo. He intended to ensure that Swan was fully informed of the lesson before revealing his own plan. Although the plan might appear obvious to anyone daring enough to scrutinize further, its underlying purpose was to keep her in close proximity to him. If that meant escorting her just a few hours from now, he found himself all the more pleased.
"Strange, isn't it? The two of us here." Snow remarked, his eyes scanning the expanse of the arena. His hands were tucked into his uniform's pockets as he made a deliberate effort to survey the entire surroundings. He was unafraid to underscore the importance of his last lesson: getting to know the arena intimately. This meant that Swan and he would be spending a bit more time together, whether she welcomed it or not. "You see, unlike many mentors around here, I am one of the few who knows the arena like the back of my hand."
"And, Mister Obvious?" Her retort had a way of making Coriolanus come across as a tad too cocky, but then again, when was he not? Having navigated through the challenges of Snow's class and being under Dr. Gaul's influence, he was among the fortunate few who comprehended the mechanics of the Games. Despite the envy from many tributes who wished for him as their mentor, evident in their poor attitudes and resentful glares amid the opulence, Coriolanus considered himself fortunate to have Swan. Some might argue her attitude mirrored that of Lucy Gray, but Coriolanus, driven by his own pride, staunchly rejected such comparisons. He wasn't delusional; his hallucinations weren't making a return, at least not for an extended period.
"How about tonight? You and me, outside the Zoo for once?" The proposition held a degree of subjectivity, but Snow managed to convey it with a subtle assurance that if they did decide to escape from the Zoo later that night, both of them would be long gone before dawn. With the strategic mindset he possessed, Snow harbored no fear of executing such plans. If he intended to prepare Swan to be by his side, establishing a one-on-one trust was paramount to making their partnership work. Ultimately, Snow's tribute had no alternative but to place her trust in him, even if it took a few days for her to fully empower herself through him—an aspect he relished in every bit.
Swan appeared taken aback by the proposition, her feet struggling to find balance but soon caught by Snow's reassuring grip. In that moment, they were so close she could have sworn she felt his breath against hers. She had momentarily forgotten how small she felt around him—a feeling that lingered in her mind. If her sister were present, she would bluntly claim that the man, her mentor, was falling for her. However, Swan dismissed such notions as laughable, considering the stark differences in their lifestyles. One dressed in opulence, aspiring to wealth, while the other vanished into innocence and purity. Regardless, both found comfort in each other. "Please." Snow finally said, this time almost sounding as if he were pleading for her agreement. "I know a place."
"I know a place."
As these words echoed in her mind, faint memories of her former lover back home lingered. He had treated her much like Coriolanus did. However, back in her hometown, men were expected to display their pride—pride that came with the freedom to do so, as long as it didn't interfere with the Capitol. With Coriolanus, though, she often sensed that showcasing his pride meant evolving into something Panem would come to fear. The fear that would eventually engulf her once she witnessed his true colors. However, in the midst of his plea, when he vowed to take care of her, she found herself nodding slightly. Hoping there was no one else left in the arena with them, she worried about Peacekeepers eavesdropping on their conversation to later wield it as punishment. Fortunately, they were truly alone. Coriolanus was orchestrating the situation with a sense of control.
"So tonight?" She questioned him with the same tone he had used earlier. Swan observed the shift in his expression as he registered her agreement to his proposal. It dawned on her that he would need to ensure the tributes were already asleep when he made the move to escort her away from the Games—a distraction he intended to exploit to his advantage. He nodded affirmatively. "Tonight at 9 pm. After dinner. Be near the Zoo's door to avoid arousing suspicion. Got it?"
"Got it."
With that, Snow suggested to the Peacekeeper that they escort her back to the Zoo properly. Before giving the directive, he approached one of them, the same one who had served her breakfast that morning. Snow found solace in the fact that there were still a few individuals in Panem he could trust, even if it meant relying on a Peacekeeper to perform a service. "Yes, sir?" The Peacekeeper's response carried the same emotionless monotone voice, only engaging when addressed. "Just like this morning. I want Miss Swan to be served a proper meal. Make it extra fancy, as per the chef's request." He paused briefly before the Peacekeeper agreed and proceeded with the duty of escorting Swan back to the Zoo.
"And make them envy her until their last breath." Coriolanus murmured to himself, expressing his sentiments as he referred to the remaining tributes. His desire was clear: to instill envy in them towards Swan, the Victor of the 11th Hunger Games and the prospective Lady of Panem.