Painting?

Her hair still slightly damp from her swim, Freckles walked into the paints station. Other than the Knots station and the Ranged station, this was the only station she hadn't done--she was leaving Ranged out because she didn't want everyone in the whole place knowing just how d'amn good she was with her tomahawk. The Knots tying station didn't interest her--she was from District 4 and had been tying knots since before she was born. She didn't need to learn anything in there--of that, she was certain. She looked around; the station was devoid of people. Well, good. She didn't like constantly watching the faces of those she was hoping to kill; it was just slightly depressing.

She went over and begun camouflaging a dummy, not wanting to apply the paints to herself until she knew how good she could be. After all, this could be the one thing that set her apart from everyone else. Camouflage could very well save her life, or even allow her to win. If you can't see your enemy, how are you going to defeat them? The dummy eventually looked like a beach--the texture looked just right for the sand. She felt like if she touched it, she'd feel the beaches of her home again. The thought was accompanied by a snort--she'd see her home again. Somehow.

She then started working on her fingers, trying to look like a patch of moss on a few stones. Eventually, her entire arm, shoulder, and down the front of her customary training shirt looked like a patch of moss and stones that just got up and started walking. She never even knew how good she was at this stuff until now. The instructor came and evaluated her work, giving her a "grade" on how well she'd done, and Nefara began cleaning herself off to leave. The instructor went back to her seat, looking completely bored and practically heartbroken as Nefara applied the cleaning solvent to her clothes, little bit at a time.