Sorry Excuses For Hunters And Friends. Both

But Gale Is Not One To Keep Secrets From Me. "katniss, There Is No District Twelve."

If You'd Been Taken By The Capital And Hijacked And Then Tried To Kill Peeta, Is This The Way He Would Be Treating You?

Yes, They Have To Have A Victor. Without A Victor, The Whole Thing Would Blow Up In The Gamemakers' Faces. They'd Have Failed The Capitol. Might Possibly Even Be Executed, Slowly And Painfully, While The Cameras Broadcast It To Every Screen In The Country.

Here Began Countless Days Of Hunting And Snaring, Fishing And Gathering, Roaming Together Through The Woods, Unloading Our Thoughts While We Filled Our Game Bags. This Was The Doorway To Both Sustenance And Sanity. And We Were Each Other's Key.

I Search His Eyes For The Slightest Sign Of Anything, Fear, Remorse, Anger. But There's Only The Same Look Of Amusement That Ended Our Last Conversation. It's As If He's Speaking The Words Again. "oh, My Dear Miss Everdeen. I Thought We Had Agreed Not To Lie To Each Other." He's Right. We Did. The Point Of My Arrow Shifts Upward. I Release The String. And President Coin Collapses Over The Side Of The Balcony And Plunges To The Ground. Dead.