thecapitol | Wolves and Girls (Closed)

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Wolves and Girls (Closed)

Who| Clementine and Natasha Romanoff
What| An offer of training
Where| The training level of the Tribute Center
When| After the kids arena
Warnings/Notes| nothing yet

She survived again, yet again she isn't a victor.

Clementine draws back the string of the bow, sucks in a deep breath and let's both the air in her lungs and the arrow loose in the same moment. The arrow thunks into the target off-center and she wishes it came as naturally to her as shooting a gun had. She tells herself she's had years to practice shooting a gun and only months with the bow and arrow, she's already come a long way with it.

There's something therapeutic about standing here and shooting arrow after arrow into the target, practicing until her arm gets so sore she can barely lift it. The arrows and targets never run out thanks to the Capitol's technology, it's Clementine who'll eventually falter and have to give in no matter how hard she tries.

At least in this moment though, caught in the rhythm of firing the arrows she feels like she's doing something productive, something to try and become stronger so that maybe, just maybe, next time she can do better. Winning seems too far off a goal but better she can aim for, especially now that she has more friends to try and protect.

Putting so much focus into her practice means Clementine won't be immediately aware of anyone coming up behind her, not unless they speak up first.

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Natasha watched the children's arena in its entirety. Of course, they made her do it, but it wasn't just that. She pays attention to everything she can, trying to find cracks in the armor. Any opportunity that could be exploited. In an arena full of children, she's not sure why she's taken an interest in this particular little girl. Maybe it's because she's so very young, or because it looks like she's seen some terrible things.

You can always tell.

It wasn't that she intentionally sought Clementine out, but she spots her in the training center after completing her own daily workout. Dressed in a casual tank-top with a towel in one hand, she approaches quietly, but begins telegraphing her steps once she gets closer.

"You're better at something else, aren't you? A gun, or a knife. The bow's a totally new development for you," she speaks up casually, arms folded across her chest as she looks at the target that Clem's stuck her arrows into...and the few in the ground, too. "I can't say it'd be my first choice of weapon either."

She hears the footsteps but still is immersed enough to startle when the woman speaks up, causing the arrow she'd had to the string to fly wide of its target. Clementine tries not to show her embarrassment as she lets her arms fall, holding the bow by her side and looking up at the one who'd come up to her, a very pretty redhead that Clementine doesn't immediately recognise. Maybe she's one of the newer tributes.

"Uh, yeah. A gun. I only got taught how to use a bow a few months back." her eyes narrow, "How can you tell that?"

She shrugs, casually and wipes the sweat from the back of her neck a little better, so it stops stinging. "Just a hunch. They made us watch the last arena. You were pretty good at surviving."

But she's also young. Which might give her an advantage in some ways, but also makes her an underdog. And Nat's always sort of had a soft spot for the underdogs of the world. "I have this friend...he's probably the best archer in the world. But a gun is really more my style."

She misses Clint. But it's better that he's not here. Natasha recognizes that, and she doesn't mourn his absence in the least.

"Thanks." she thinks. "I made it through alive, anyway." but not as a victor. Again, a shadow of bitterness passes over her face when she remembers that part. Two mini arena's and she'd come out of both alive and still didn't get to win.

"Joel and Roland taught me how." those names might not mean anything to this woman, "I try to practice a lot but I don't like it as much as a gun either. I'm more likely to get one of these in the arena than a pistol though." In the last big arena they'd given out guns but Clementine hadn't been lucky enough to win one, even though she'd tried.

She might as well introduce herself as well, though it's probable that if this woman was watching her in the arena she already knows her name, "I'm Clementine."

The names mean a little bit to her, but only because Natasha's studied most of the tributes. What with the arena tapes being public access, she's watched most of the recent ones. Studying them for any information she could glean, weaknesses in the system or those her fellow tributes possessed. Not that she explains that, with the way she shakes her head silently when she mentions them.

"Hey Clementine, I'm Natasha," she replies, holding out her hand for the little girl to shake. Treating her like an adult, because these kids are sent to fight to the death just like the rest of them. She owes her that much.

Clementine looks at the offered hand and Natasha gauged that correctly, the gesture clearly wins her over if the small smile is anything to go by. She reaches forwards and puts her small hand in Natasha's, shaking it firmly.

"Nice to meet you. I don't think I've ever seen you around before. Have you been here long?" it's a harmless enough inquiry, one that's pretty typical between Tributes meeting each other for the first time.

Well. Natasha of all people should know what little girls are capable of, and how much of a mistake it would be to underestimate a child backed into a corner. She gives Clem's hand two shakes and lets go, giving her an approving look over how firm her handshake is. She's not a shy kid. She doesn't look timid. Which is good, because there's no room for that in the arenas.

"Probably not as long as you have," she mentions off-handedly, mostly because she knows that the girl has been here for a while. "While you've been here, has anyone ever offered to train you?"

Well that's getting right into it. While Clementine's a little surprised she also doesn't mind the direct approach, preferring it over someone tiptoeing around the matter.

"A few people have shown me things. And given me advice." she's not sure if that fits into the criteria that Natasha is asking about. Clementine also practices at a lot of the stations the Capitol has provided for Tributes to learn from. "Why do you want to know?"

She suspects the answer well enough but still has the courtesy to ask.

"I'm making an offer," it's simple enough. She has this skillset, and she figures it'll be good to pass it on to those who might need a little more help defending themselves when it comes to the arenas. "I'd train you. A couple times a week, if you want."

"What kind of things would you teach me?" Clementine asks curiously. She's intrigued by the offer but figures she better find out what she'd be learning before she said yes. She doesn't know Natasha or what she's capable of but she's already decided to be open to any help that might come her away.

Anything that could let her do better and keep her friends safe.

Well, maybe it's time for a demonstration. She wouldn't blame Clementine for being skeptical, after all. It's an offer that had come out of the blue. There are a couple of training dummies set up around the gym. Natasha selects a handful of small silver knives from the weapons rack and proceeds to throw them with impressive speed and accuracy, each one embedded directly into the center of the dummy's forehead.

"How to survive. I started learning when I was younger than you. And you deserve the chance."

She has a protective streak for young girls that she rarely gets to show.

Clementine watches Natasha as she takes the knives, moving to get a better view of what she's doing and can't help gaping a little as each knife hits its target so perfectly.

Yeah, she can definitely say she'd like to be able to do that.

"That's amazing." she says in awe, looking at Natasha with a whole new light in her eyes, though it's sombered when Natasha says the next part. Why would she have to learn so young? How young? But Clementine's world had fallen apart when she was only eight years old, it shouldn't sound so surprising. "Wow... yeah, okay."

How can she say no to that?

She learned too young, and never by her own choice. But there's no point in being angry about something that has already happened. She's long since accepted her lack of a childhood. And at least at this point, she's able to teach someone else, to pass along some skills that might help the youngest of them scrape by.

"Okay," Nat tells her with a little smile, like they're both sharing a secret. "You're small, and people are always gonna underestimate you. That's good. You have to use that to your advantage and hit where it hurts the most. Do you think you could do that?"

Maybe it's a little bit callous, to be asking a little girl if she's ready to kill. But it's not like anyone in the Capitol would ever hesitate to do the same to her.

Clementine hesitates a little before answering, dwelling on the past before setting her shoulders and speaking honestly, with determination and an acknowledging nod to the points Natasha made. "I've done it before."

Not here where the cameras could see, but back home she had killed a person before. More than one.

"I can do it again if I have to."

That determination is good, even if it makes her a little sad. Natasha looks at Clementine with respect instead of horror, though. Unlike most adults probably would if they heard her story. She respects that this girl has done what she needed to in order to keep herself safe. Her expression convinces Nat that she isn't someone to be written off because she's small.

"I'm glad to hear it. Here, grab a knife. I'm gonna teach you how to throw. I want you to practice as much as you can, okay?"

She takes a knife of her own and balances it in her fingers, flipping it as easily as a pencil or a drumstick.

"Okay!" she looks at the display of knives after putting her bow and arrows down before choosing one that isn't too big for her small hand. The variety is intimidating, with different sizes and types of blades, so Clementine goes for one that looks similar to what Natasha has.

"I'll practice every day."

That's a promise she means to keep. Watching Natasha so easily balance her own knife, Clem asks, "How do I start?"

Knives are easier to find in the arenas - Natasha has learned this from watching old tapes of past victors. Knives are easier to find and easier to craft than a bow and arrows. They're a more versatile weapon. And effective when wielded properly. Clementine picks one that is the right size and she nods in approval before slowly reaching over to adjust her grip on it. Slowly, telegraphing her moves so she doesn't startle her.

"You have to train your arm. Hold onto the knife and don't let it go. Do what I do," and she demonstrates a throw - slowly, making sure her motions are big and easy to follow. Natasha doesn't let go of the knife and keeps it in her hand the whole time. She wants Clem to get used to the weight of metal in her hand, because it'll affect her throw and the arc of the knife.

Clementine doesn't flinch when Natasha takes her hand and shows her how to hold the knife properly. If she was planning on hurting her she wouldn't be here helping her learn how to survive.

"Like muscle memory?" she thinks that's what it's called. She'd been told similar when it came to learning the bow.

Slowly she draws back her arm and copies what Natasha did, keeping the knife in her hand. She does it a couple of times before she looks up for approval.

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