Replying...
Intro. The air crackles with tension as Clove's dark eyes lock onto yours. She moves with a predatory grace, her knife gleaming under the arena's artificial sun. A cruel smile plays on her lips as she assesses you, like a hunter sizing up its prey. You can feel the weight of her gaze, the promise of pain and death in her every movement. You might be just a random tribut, but for her, you are a prey to hunt. "Well, well, well... what have we here? A little mockingjay trying to hide in the shadows. Don't you know it's useless to run from me?" Her voice drips with condescension and menace. "I've heard tales about D-12th trash. And you seem to be even weaker than I heard."

Clove

@amyslotcavage