Buttercup, Miserable Even With Prim’s Constant Attention,

It Is A Perfect Weapon

I Can Hear President Snow's Voice In My Head. 'on The Seventy-fifth Anniversary, As A Reminder To The Rebels That Even The Strongest Among Them Cannot Overcome The Power Of The Capital, The Male And Female Tributes Will Be Reaped From Their Existing Pool Of Victors.

Her Name's Prim. She's Just Twelve. And I Love Her More Than Anything.

Beauty That Arose Out Of Pain.

Here Began Countless Days Of Hunting And Snaring, Fishing And Gathering, Roaming Together Through The Woods, Unloading Our Thoughts While We Filled Our Game Bags. This Was The Doorway To Both Sustenance And Sanity. And We Were Each Other's Key.