I'm More Than Just A Piece In

Even Though I Don't Ask, Plutarch Gives Me Cheerful Updates On The Phone Like "good News, Katniss! I Think We've Almost Got Him Convinced You're Not A Mutt!" Or "today He Was Allowed To Feed Himself Pudding!

Great. Now I Have To Go Back And Tell Haymitch I Want An Eighty-year-old And Nuts And Volts For My Allies. He'll Love That.

Don't You See, Katniss, This Will Decide Things. One Way Or The Other. By The End Of The Day, They'll Ether Be Dead Or With Us. It's...it's More Than We Could Hope For! Well, That's A Sunny View Of Our Situation.

All The Times These Arms Were My Only Refuge From The World. Perhaps Not Fully Appreciated Then, But So Sweet In My Memory, And Now Gone Forever.

But It's Posy, Gale's Five-year-old Sister, Who Helps The Most. She Scoots Along The Bench To Octavia And Touches Her Skin With A Tentative Finger. “you're Green. Are You Sick?” “it's A Fashion Thing, Posy. Like Wearing Lipstick,” I Say. “it's Meant To Be Pretty,” Whispers Octavia, And I Can See The Tears Threatening To Spill Over Her Lashes. Posy Considers This And Says Matter-of-factly, “i Think You'd Be Pretty In Any Color.