Delly Lost Her Temper At

Tomorrow's A Hunting Day," I Say. "i Won't Be Much Of A Help With That," Peeta Says. "i've Never Hunted Before." "i'll Kill And You Cook," I Say. "and You Can Always Gather." "i Wish There Was Some Sort Of Bread Bush Out There," Says Peeta.

So, In A Way, My Name Being Drawn In The Reaping Was A Real Piece Of Luck," Says Peeta.

But After Several Hours, I Go Anyway, Walking In Silent Sock Feet, So As Not To Awaken The Ghosts.

Peeta, How Come I Never Know When You're Having A Nightmare?” I Say. “i Don't Know. I Don't Think I Cry Out Or Thrash Around Or Anything. I Just Come To, Paralyzed With Terror,” He Says. “you Should Wake Me,” I Say, Thinking About How I Can Interrupt His Sleep Two Or Three Times On A Bad Night. About How Long It Can Take To Calm Me Down. “it's Not Necessary. My Nightmares Are Usually About Losing You,” He Says. “i'm Okay Once I Realize You're Here.

Despite What I Feel For Peeta, This Is When I Accept Deep Down That He'll Never Come Back To Me. Or I'll Never Go Back To Him. I'll Die For My Trouble. And He'll Die Insane And Hating Me.