Here's Some Advice. Stay Alive.

Despite What I Feel For Peeta, This Is When I Accept Deep Down That He'll Never Come Back To Me. Or I'll Never Go Back To Him. I'll Die For My Trouble. And He'll Die Insane And Hating Me.

Mutually Counting On Each Other, Watching Each Other's Backs, Forcing Each Other To Be Brave.

Fine. I'll Train. But I'm Going To The Stinking Capitol If I Have To Kill A Crew And Fly There Myself." Says Johanna. "probably Best Not To Bring That Up In Training," I Say. "but It's Nice To Know I'll Have A Ride.

What Does This Mean? It Means I Get To Spend The Morning Having The Hair Ripped Off My Body While Peeta Sleeps In.

All The General Fear I've Been Feeling Condenses Into An Immediate Fear Of This Girl, This Predator Who Might Kill Me In Seconds. Adrenaline Shoots Through Me And I Sling The Pack Over One Shoulder And Run Full-speed For The Woods. I Can Hear The Blade Whistling Toward Me And Reflexively Hike The Pack Up To Protect My Head. The Blade Lodges In The Pack. Both Straps On My Shoulders Now, I Make For The Trees. Somehow I Knew The Girl Will Not Pursue Me. That She'll Be Drawn Back Into The Cornucopia Before All The Good Stuff Is Gone. A Grin Crosses My Face. Thanks For The Knife, I Think.