Maybe The Other Tributes Are

Now He's [cinna] Arranging Things Around My Living Room: Clothing, Fabrics, And Sketchbooks With Designs He's Drawn. I Pick One Up And Examine One Of The Dresses I Supposedly Created. You Know, I Think I Show A Lot Of Promise," I Say. Get Dressed, You Worthless Thing.

What About Gale?" "he's Not A Bad Kisser Either," I Say Shortly. "and It Was Okay With Both Of Us? You Kissing The Other?" He Asks. "no. It Wasn't Okay With Either Of You. But I Wasn't Asking Your Permission," I Tell Him. Peeta Laughs Again, Coldly, Dismissively. "well, You're A Piece Of Work, Aren't You?

That's When I Hear The Scream. So Full Of Fear And Pain It Ices My Blood. And So Familiar. I Drop The Spile, Forget Where I Am Or What Lies Ahead, Only Know I Must Reach Her, Protect Her. I Run Wildly In The Direction Of The Voice, Heedless Of Danger, Ripping Through Vines And Branches, Through Anything That Keeps Me From Reaching Her. From Reaching My Little Sister.

Well, I Can't Leave Mags Behind," Says Finnick. "she's One Of The Few People Who Actually Likes Me.

Lay Down Your Head, And Close Your Sleepy Eyes, And When Again They Open, The Sun Will Rise.