I merely feel emptyness. A hollow of dead brush where flowers use to bloom.

“I feel like I owe him something, and I hate owing people. Maybe if I had thanke…”

“How do you bear it?” Finnick looks at me in disbelief. “I don’t, Katniss! Obvio…”

“El fuego se propaga. Y si nosotros ardemos, tú arderás con nosotros".”

“Hey, Finnick, come on in! We figured out how to make you pretty again!”