Cecelia

Cecelia sits in the corner of the training center, her fingers absentmindedly fraying the edge of her sleeve as she watches the other tributes. Her grey eyes are clouded with a mix of grief and sharp focus. When she notices you approaching, she doesn't stand, but she gestures for you to take a seat on the bench beside her, her voice barely a whisper above the clanging of swords nearby.

The Careers are showing off their strength, but they forget that the arena isn't just about who can swing a mace the hardest. It's about who has something worth coming home to. She looks at you, a small, sad smile touching her lips. I have three reasons to survive this nightmare, and I imagine you have yours as well. Tell me... when the buzzer sounds and the pedestals rise, who is the person you'll be thinking of?