We sit in silence awhile then I blurt out the thing that's on both our minds. "How are we going to kill these people, Peeta?

I always channel my emotions into my work. That way, I don't hurt anyone but myself.

Not daring to flee since my general location has just been broadcast to any killer who cares. I mean, I know it's cold out here and not everybody has a sleeping bag.

You don't destroy what you want to acquire in the future.

Technically, I am unarmed. But no one should ever underestimate the harm that fingernails can do. Especially if the target is unprepared.

Sick and disoriented, I'm able to form only one thought: Peeta Mellark just saved my life.

The air's warm with hopeful hints of spring in it. Spring would be a good time for an uprising, I think. Everyone feels less vulnerable once winter passes.