They don't own me. If I'm gonna die, I wanna still be me.

for some reason Gale and Peeta do not coexist well in my thoughts.

I really can't think about kissing when I've got a rebellion to incite.

Something keeps me moving forward, though. A lifetime of watching the Hunger Games lets me know that certain areas of the arena are rigged for certain attacks. And that if I can just get away from this section, I might be able to move out of reach of the launchers. I might also then fall straight into a pit of vipers, but I can't worry about that now.

Katniss: 'What about you? Ive seen you in the market. You can lift hundred pound bags of flour'. I snap at him Tell him that. Thats not nothing. Peeta: Yes and Im sure the arena will be full of bags of flour for me to chuck at people.

Charred bits of black silk swirl into the air, and pearls clatter to the stage… I’m in a dress of the exact design of my wedding dress, only it’s the color of coal and made of tiny feathers. Wonderingly, I lift my long, flowing sleeves into the air, and that’s when I see myself on the television screen. Clothed in black except for the white patches on my sleeves. Or should I say my wings. Because Cinna had turned me into a mockingjay.

Not if we blow it up," Gale says brusquely. His intent, his full intent, becomes clear. Gale has no interest in preserving the lives of those in the Nut. No interest in caging the pray for later use. This is one of his death traps.