bakesafe: (you're giving me the crepes)
peeta 'ɪ ᴡᴀs ʙʀᴇᴀᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜɪs' mellark ₒ ([personal profile] bakesafe) wrote in [community profile] ten_fwd_ooc 2015-01-04 02:31 am (UTC)

It's a trick; that's the second thing that pops into Peeta's mind as he scrutinizes the man in front of him, the man who calls himself a doctor.

He's seen some of the doctors in the Capitol, knows what they're capable of. He's read things, he's seen previous years' Hunger Games, and he wouldn't trust anyone to heal him but Katniss' mom, maybe. (And Katniss' little sister. Prim.) But a butter knife isn't going to win this fight.

The knife remains poised in his hand, arm held rigid, his entire body remaining calm and still, but a moment passes before he finally lets his arm drop to his side, a slow and deliberate 'truce'. (He's not even sure what he'd call it, because surrender and submission are not words he'd use either.) He's not letting go of the utensil, but it's clear he won't use it if he doesn't have to.

Peeta isn't a fighter, he never has been. His skill is in artistry, in his charm and his words. Maybe they'll be of some use to him here in this ... arena.

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