Yeah, We Wouldn't Want To Lose Our

The Morphlings From District 6 Are In The Camouflage Station, Painting Each Other's Faces With Bright Pink Swirls.

He Hasn't Accepted His Death. He Is Already Fighting Hard To Stay Alive. Which Also Means That Kind Peeta Mellark, The Boy Who Gave Me Bread, Is Fighting Hard To Kill Me.

It's The First Gift That's Always The Hardest To Pay Back.

I Want To Do Something, Right Here, Right Now, To Shame Them, To Make Them Accountable, To Show The Capitol That Whatever They Do Or Force Us To Do There Is A Part Of Every Tribute They Can't Own. That Rue Was More Than A Piece In Their Games. And So Am I.

I Look Down At Our Linked Fingers As I Loosen My Grasp, But He Regains His Grip On Me. “no, Don’t Let Go Of Me,” He Says.