When the cameras first show up, I nearly give in and shoot them all. Perched up in a tree, no one having seemed to notice me yet, I could do it, I think, take them out before anyone even knows what's happened. It's just too familiar, the thought of something like this as entertainment, broadcast on people's televisions. Familiar and not unexpected. Ultimately, though, I keep still. My bitterness isn't worth the risk of giving myself away and losing what might be Peeta's one chance at escape, if it comes to that.
It doesn't. The sun sets, and I wait, barely aware of just how long has passed until I stop to remember how early it was when I went out into the woods in the first place. I guess it really is just like being in the Arena again — doing anything I can to keep Peeta safe, watching and waiting and not knowing what might happen, me stuck up in a tree like this while he plays friendly with people who only might, in this case, want to hurt us. Thinking about it almost makes me sick, but at least I know what I'm doing, more weary but wiser than I was in our first Games. I don't let my guard down once, not even when they're all gone and Peeta is, too, and I can finally descend from my place in the tree. We should have worked out some kind of plan for after, I realize, but we'd been too pressed for time, too uncertain. We'll just have to figure something else now, hope we can meet in the middle.
As it turns out, he beats me to it. The knock on the door nearly gives me a heart attack, still too on edge and with adrenaline coursing through my veins, but it's clear within a moment that it's Peeta. Even having known already that nothing happened to him back by the cornucopia, I'm too relieved to stay put, crossing the room quickly to wrap my arms around his neck. "Hey."
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It doesn't. The sun sets, and I wait, barely aware of just how long has passed until I stop to remember how early it was when I went out into the woods in the first place. I guess it really is just like being in the Arena again — doing anything I can to keep Peeta safe, watching and waiting and not knowing what might happen, me stuck up in a tree like this while he plays friendly with people who only might, in this case, want to hurt us. Thinking about it almost makes me sick, but at least I know what I'm doing, more weary but wiser than I was in our first Games. I don't let my guard down once, not even when they're all gone and Peeta is, too, and I can finally descend from my place in the tree. We should have worked out some kind of plan for after, I realize, but we'd been too pressed for time, too uncertain. We'll just have to figure something else now, hope we can meet in the middle.
As it turns out, he beats me to it. The knock on the door nearly gives me a heart attack, still too on edge and with adrenaline coursing through my veins, but it's clear within a moment that it's Peeta. Even having known already that nothing happened to him back by the cornucopia, I'm too relieved to stay put, crossing the room quickly to wrap my arms around his neck. "Hey."