My Lips Are Just Forming His Name

If Under Fell, If Over Leaped, If Death Was Life And Death Life Reaped, Something Rises From The Gloom, To Make The Underland A Tomb Hear It Scratching Down Below, Rat Of Long Forgotten Snow, Evil Cloaked In Coat Of White, Will The Warrior Drain Your Light? What Could Turn The Warrior Week? What Do Burning Gnawers Seek? Just A Barely Speaking Pup That Holds The Land Of Under Up Die The Baby, Die His Heart Die His Most Essential Part Die The Peace That Rules The Hour, Gnawers Have Their Key To Power

The Numbness Of His Loss Had Passed, And The Pain Would Hit Me Out Of Nowhere, Doubling Me Over, Racking My Body With Sobs. Where Are You? I Would Cry Out In My Mind. Where Have You Gone? Of Course, There Was Never Any Answer.

Exactly How Am I Supposed To Work In A Thank-you In There? Somehow It Just Won't Seem Sincere If I'm Trying To Slit His Throat.

I Volunteer!" I Gasp. "i Volunteer As Tribute!

By The End Of The Session, I Am No One At All. Haymitch Started Drinking Somewhere Around Witty, And A Nasty Edge Has Crept Into His Voice. "i Give Up, Sweetheart. Just Answer The Questions And Try Not To Let The Audience See How Openly You Despise Them.