"I spent the first day or so searching for items left behind by other contestants," he explains.
"Is that how you trapped the pheasant?"
He shakes his head as he dabs at the wound again. "I made a trap with my shoelaces. There's a certain amount of luck involved to trapping in an unfamiliar environment, but they were fairly noisy. I think because they're left alone for three months at a time."
"Oh."
"Anyway, I found a first aid kit with a few antiseptic wipes and a bandage." He motions to the sealed pack sitting on the forest floor next to us.
"You shouldn't waste that on me," I start to protest.
He fixes me with a don't-kid-me look. "If we leave the wound open, then it's going to get infected. Do you want to die that way?"
"I don't particularly want to die at all," I mutter. "Though maybe that will get some decent money for Mila," I muse.
"Your sister?" he checks.
I nod. "I have no idea how she's taking any of this. Just a few days before I was volunteered, she made me promise I wouldn't sign up for the Duels."
"Why would you want to do this on purpose?" he asks, genuine curiosity in his voice.
"Why did you?"
"I asked first."
I chuckle. "You've got me there."
He dabs against my wound again. I suck in a breath through my teeth in pain. I'll be glad when he's done with the antiseptic.
"Because the way they position the Dragon Defenders, it would be a better life than the one I had before. We had to scrape by for every penny. We always managed to have stuff to eat, but it wasn't always nice food, and sometimes it would make us sick. The wages they pay us are so small that it barely covered our rent, especially after our family died. The Dragon Defenders would have been a way to change that."
"Even if it would have taken you away from your sister?"
"Yes. The money I got would mean that Mila could have a different life. A better one. She's always talking about wanting an apprenticeship, and if I earned more money, then I can help her focus on that. Knowing she was happy would have been enough." Even to me, the words sound a bit hollow. I'd prefer to have both the financial security and Mila.
"I feel the same about my sister," he admits softly. "She's the youngest of my siblings and wants so much from life."
"What's her name?"
"Emerald. We call her Emmy." He smiles as he says it.
"And you have other siblings?" I ask, pushing the subject. He hasn't spoken much about his family since we met. Certainly not as much as I have about Mila.
"Two older brothers. Jett and Roux."
"Are you meant to all be named after colours?" The question spills out before I can stop it.
Cobalt chuckles. "Good catch. Yes, it's on purpose. Around the time we were born, it was common for parents in the White Towers to pick themes for their children's names. I know a pair of twins called Silk and Hessian."
I grimace.
"See, I got off lucky."
"You did. I like Cobalt. It suits you, even if your eyes are disappointingly brown."
"They were blue when I was born," he counters.
"Most babies are born with blue eyes," I point out.
He finally pulls the wipe away and throws it into the small fire we have burning in the same place we did before we left for the lake.
"Do you think it's safe for us to stay here?"
"I think so. The only person who found us was Marina, and that was an accident. With what happened to her, she can't tell anyone about where we are either," he reassures me, his voice catching ever so slightly as he says her name. It seems as if he isn't as oblivious to her passing as he's acting.
I try not to focus too much on her loss. If I do, then I'm not sure how well I'm going to be able to deal with the rest of the time here in the arena. At least I'm not going through all of this alone. I'm surprised by how much comfort being around Cobalt brings me. As his sure hands wind the bandage around my leg, I realise I can even go as far as saying I trust him with my life.
"There, that should hold you for a few days." He ties off the bandage and tucks it into place.
"What do we do after that?"
"We either hope we find another first aid kit with a bandage, or we boil the bandage in water. I'm sceptical about whether or not we can get it hot enough, but there's very little other choice if we can't find another one."
I nod. "I'm definitely starting to regret not picking a first aid kit as my item."
"Even over Moonslinger?" he points to the weapon lying next to me.
"I don't know," I admit. "It's been kind of useful..."
"That's one way of saying it stopped you from becoming dragon food."
"Well, yes. But at the same time, I didn't know what it did when I picked it up."
"Then why did you choose it?"
"Something about it spoke to me. It sounds ridiculous now I'm saying it out loud," I admit sheepishly.
"It'll have been your Arts. It happens more often than you think."
I frown. "What do you mean?"
He sits back and stares into the fire. "There are several weapons that channel the Arts. Some are like this one and are a bit unwieldy. Others are more like what you'd expect. I didn't see any of those in the choice room, though. I suspect they want the only Arts channeller to have some serious drawbacks."
"Like being big and weirdly shaped."
"And hard to wield."
"I didn't find it that hard to use," I muse.
"Except that you didn't use it right."
"I killed a dragon with it," I point out. "How much more using
