"I was better with spears and knives and my tridents, but a sword is reliable." When it had really mattered, Finnick hadn't been quite developed enough to wield a great axe. He'd been strong and tall, but still fourteen, and the advantages of a good diet that came from being from District Four hadn't done what four more years of development would have to his physique.

What Bull suggests is less intense than Finnick's used to, though similar to the way fighting against a trainer works for the tributes. They can't fight each other, can't hurt each other before the spectacle begins, so they're left with the trainers, with hits taking the place of what in the arena would be a wounding blow.

Finnick nods.

"Sounds good. Nice not to have to worry about getting hit."