I Know. I Was Hoping,"

So, What Do You Think They'll Do To Him?" I Ask. Prim Sounds About A Thousand Years Old When She Speaks. "whatever It Takes To Break You.

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.

And Then There Was Tick. Brave Little Tick, Who Had Flown Into The Faces Of An Army Of Rats To Save His Baby Sister. Tick - Who Never Spoke Much. Tick - Who Shared Her Food. Tick - Who Was After All Just A Roach. Just A Roach Who Had Given All The Time She Had Left So That Boots Could Have More. Gregor Pressed Boots's Fingers Against His Lips And Felt Scalding Tears Begin To Slide Down His Cheeks. He Hadn't Cried, Not The Whole Time He'd Been Down Here, And There Had Been Plenty Of Bad Stuff. But Somehow Tick's Sacrifice Had Crushed Whatever Thin Shell Remained Between Him And Sorrow.

Peeta Smiles At Me, Sad And Mocking. "okay. Thanks For The Tip, Sweetheart.

The Woods Always Look Different At Night...as If The Daytime Trees And Flowers And Stones Had Gone To Bed And Sent Slightly More Ominous Versions Of Themselves To Take Their Places.