Just One More Thing. I Kill Snow.

I Can See The First Apple Teetering When I Let The Third Arrow Go, Catching The Torn Flap And Ripping It From The Bag. For A Moment, Everything Seems Frozen In Time. Then The Apples Spill To The Ground And I'm Blown Backward Into The Air.

I'm Trying To Think Of A Witty Comeback, When Boggs Says Brusquely, “well, Don't Expect Us To Be Too Impressed. We Just Saw Finnick Odair In His Underwear.” I Decide To Go Ahead And Like Boggs.

Let Me Go!” I Snarl At Him, Trying To Wrest My Arm From His Grasp. “i Can’t,” He Says.

Peeta Crouches Down On The Other Side Of Her And Strokes Her Hair. When He Begins To Speak In A Soft Voice, It Seems Almost Nonsensical, But The Words Aren’t For Me. “with My Paint Box At Home, I Can Make Every Color Imaginable. Pink. As Pale As A Baby’s Skin. Or As Deep As Rhubarb. Green Like Spring Grass. Blue That Shimmers Like Ice On Water.

There Was No Discussion Between Them; It Was As If The Bugs Had Worked Out This Whole Scenario Long Ago. Temp Put On A Burst Of Speed For The End Of The Bridge, And Tick Turned To Face Down The Army Of Rats Alone.