I'm very hard to catch," says Rue. "And if they can't catch me, they can't kill me. So don't count me out.

Peeta crouches down on the other side of her and strokes her hair. When he begins to speak in a soft voice, it seems almost nonsensical, but the words aren’t for me. “With my paint box at home, I can make every color imaginable. Pink. As pale as a baby’s skin. Or as deep as rhubarb. Green like spring grass. Blue that shimmers like ice on water.

I miss home badly sometimes. But then I remember there's nothing left to miss anymore. I feel safer here.

He wants as many victors as possible for the cameras to follow in the Capitol. Thinks it makes for better television." "Are you and Beetee going?" I ask. "As many young and attractive victors as possible," Haymitch corrects himself. "So, no. We'll be here.

Peeta smiles and douses Haymitch's knife in white liquor from a bottle on the floor. He wipes the blade clean on his shirt tail and slices the bread. Peeta keeps all of us in fresh baked goods. I hunt. He bakes. Haymitch drinks. We have our own ways to stay busy, to keep thought of our time as contestants in the Hunger Games at bay.

I know he was desperate. That makes people do all kinds of crazy things.

Katniss Everdeen, the girl who was on fire, you have provided a spark that, left unattended, may grow to an inferno that destroys Panem," he says.