Eyes On The Forest, Not On The

Turn And Turn And Turn Again You See The What, But Not The When Remedy And Wrong Entwine And So They Form A Single Vine

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.

He Tilts His Forehead Down To Rest Against Mine And Pulls Me Closer. His Skin, His Whole Being Radiates Heat From Being So Near The Fire, And I Close My Eyes, Soaking In His Warmth. I Breathe In The Smell Of Snow-dampened Leather And Smoke And Apples, The Smell Of All Those Wintry Days We Shared Before The Games. I Don't Try To Move Away. Why Should I Anyway? His Voice Drops To A Whisper. "i Love You." That's Why.

They Don't Own Me. If I'm Gonna Die, I Wanna Still Be Me.

Katniss, I Don't Think President Snow Will Kill Peeta. If He Does, He Won't Have Any Way To Hurt You." "so, What Do You Think They'll Do To Him?" I Ask. "whatever It Takes To Break You.