Author's Note: Hello lovely reader, this is the sequel to Formidable, another fanfic of mine. I advise you read it before this, but it is your choice. Anyways, I hope that you enjoy this chapter and perhaps would be kind enough to leave me a review? :D

Haha, my dears. Enjoy and review! xx

in-sur-gence [in-sur-juhns]

noun: an act of rebellion; insurrection; revolt

Katniss:

There's something different about him. When I walk into the train compartment with a full crew of cameramen trailing behind and eager to film our reunion, I already can tell. Cato is sitting by the window, looking outside at the snowy landscape, and when we crowd in, he turns and stares for a moment before sending a flashing smile towards me.

"Katniss Everdeen. It's been half a year," he says, getting up. He's leaner….not skinnier, but not as big as the last time I saw him, his frame isn't completely loaded with muscle, yet there obviously isn't an ounce of fat either.

"Yes..." I step forwards hesitantly; I expected something other than this. Perhaps a warmer welcome? Something that shows that we are more than simple comrades?

"Miss me?" My doubts melt away when he looks down at me with those eyes of his, they are as bright as his smile. Then he kisses me, but through the warmth and the feeling of his hands holding my face, there's something else.

I can hear the crew's hushed excitement and Effie's delighted gasp. So when we pull away I pretend that nothing was wrong, and smile and laugh for the cameras. Cato is grinning too, and I feel him sweep me up and carry me towards the seats.

"Cato, I did. But it's marvelous to be with you again," I say in a bubbly, chirpy voice that isn't my own. I wish that they'd stop filming already, I can't be myself when so many people are watching and all I hear is the sound of the crew adjusting their lenses.

The drifting snowflakes and the blinding whiteness outside lend the room a beautiful natural glow that merges with the warm light cast by the chandeliers. I stare at his face, the face that girls back home envy me for, the face that Gale dislikes me for, and the face that is so familiar yet sends butterflies down my stomach every time I see it.

"You're not acting like yourself, love. I've been waiting to see you for months, grace me…" He smirks, and before he even finishes the sentence I plant a quick kiss on his lips, silencing him.

"That isn't you either, but I'm not complaining," he chuckles, and then I am putting my arm through the crook of his arm and pulling him up and towards the door where we came in through.

"It's great out there, let's go." I laugh and merrily lead Cato outside in the snow, where he gives me a wild grin before gently bumping into me. I fall into the snow, still smiling and immediately start scooping up as much snow as I can with my warm fur gloves on.

"Oh, I do love that. You're all still filming this, right?" Effie's excited voice rings across the snow as I throw the snowball at Cato and he laughs it off before declaring that "It's on, Katniss," and turning away to pack the soft snow with his bare hands.

When Effie announces that we need to get going "at this very moment" we are both cold, wet and smiling. I don't think that I've had so much fun since…forever, it seems. There is snow in his blonde hair and some on his nose, and I brush it off. But only when he presses his cold lips to my warm ones and I feel ice-cold water in between them do I realize that his lips are coated with snow too.

"You missed a spot, Fire Girl." He smirks, holding me close to him and walking me up the steps back onto the train.

And when I scowl at the old nickname, he simply grins, and I think that smile could light up all of District 12…I don't even remember why I ever had those doubts when I first saw him.

…

"They all secretly hate me," Cato mutters. "And yet they are forced to clap and cheer."

I stay quiet as we pull out from the District 1 train station. I can't disagree, in 11 they didn't even try to pretend, the dark-skinned farmers stood silent at the end of our small speeches. There was a family with several young girls that reminded me so much of Rue, with their large dark eyes and almost weightless appearance, that I wanted to reach out and apologize for their loss. Of course I didn't…after all, it was my arrow that brought down their sister. In 3, the people's dislike of Cato was so great that I could almost hear their sneers although they clapped and cheered. And just now, in 1, there was much clapping as we paraded through the shining streets, but I saw a family- clearly Marvel's - standing to the side, frowning. I do not know which family was Glimmer's, among the jeweled crowd in their sparkling clothing.

"I know what it feels like." I glance at him and his eyes are closed, yet there is such a serious expression frozen on his face. "To have to act like you feel something you don't."

"What do you mean?" I ask. I know that Cato is good at lying, and that he can hide things extremely well, but acting?

He doesn't answer me but just continues. "You don't even know how good I am at it."

We are both quiet and staring outside at the passing trees. It'll be almost a day before we arrive in District 12, even with two new victors the Capitol insists on following tradition, our districts will be visited last. 12, and then 2, and then the final celebration in the Capitol. Venia and Octavia were telling me about how dull things were over there while ripping the hair off my body. My legs still sting although that was more than a day ago.

"I have to go, Enobaria's calling me. I'll see you later, ok?" I can't hear Enobaria's voice at all, but Cato gets up, glances at me with those piercing eyes for a moment, and then opens the decorated glass door and leaves.

I decide to go find Cinna or Haymitch, or maybe even Effie. They're all somewhere on our half of the train. This compartment where Cato and I were is the middle of the train, and the sections are evenly divided between the two victors' prep team, mentors, and escorts.

I pass into the next compartment, where Octavia, Flavius, and Venia are sitting around a circular table, where there are flickering holograms of people being cast into the air by some type of device.

"What are you doing?" I inquire, truly curious. The images are changing quickly, steadying into a nearly solid screen in front of my prep teams' wide eyes.

"We're looking through the attendance for the Snow Ball. It's tonight, you know." Octavia says, eagerly pressing a button on her device. "Only the most important people are invited."

The Snow Ball…it's the most prestigious and anticipated event in the Capitol other than the annual Hunger Games. The last one was five years ago, it was televised in full and was required viewing across Panem. It always happened during a Victory Tour, and I think that President Snow and various Capitol citizens comment on that year's Games. I don't remember much from that year other than the fact that it was huge and incredibly fancy. Perhaps even grander than the party that will be thrown for the victors in a few days.

"We all must watch. Oh, it'll be so so fun!" Venia laughs delightedly. "Everybody's going to watch it together. Even Yevon and Cato's prep team."

"Yes, Effie will make sure of that," Flavius says.

"Anybody special that was invited?" They seem so excited that I only think it right to show at least some excitement, as fake as it might be. I don't have anything to do anyways since Cato sort of just abandoned me.

"Finnick Odair. Esmerelda Teshid. Some others, and I think that Taye Helistin is going too. Oh, and Rosalie Darling too," Octavia says, not taking her eyes from her screen.

"I thought that Taye was from the Districts," I mutter. He looked far too plain to be one of those freakishly dressed Capital citizens. Not plain in looks, just plainly dressed.

"No, he's President Snow's nephew. He is so handsome yet he has such a bland sense of fashion. I think that he should get some tattoos and oh, he would look dashing with some nice long eyelashes." Venia smiles at the thought and I feel the urge to run out the door. My prep team can be so oblivious to how strange I think they are, with their freakish ideas. At the same time I am surprised, I didn't know that the president had any siblings, let alone nephews or nieces.

"Where's Haymitch?"

"He said that he was going to go enjoy a drink with Enobaria." I wrinkle my nose at their answer. Knowing Haymitch, it'll be far more than one drink. I wonder if Enobaria was really calling Cato.

"I'll see you later tonight then." I go off and look for Cinna and Effie. I don't want to put up with two drunk individuals who have both killed more than a few people before.

I don't find Effie anywhere but Cinna is in his section of the train, where he designs my outfits for the tour. Right now there's this beautiful blue dress hanging from the rack in front of him.

"Wow," I say, and he turns and smiles.

"What's wrong?" he asks without my having to say anything. I sigh, Cinna always understands me. I tell him about how Cato's been acting strangely and what he said earlier. He listens patiently and has a knowing look on his face.

"Katniss, you have to understand that it's not easy being him. He hated you in the beginning of the Games and somehow you two ended up as lovers. I bet that he's just confused."

"But the thing is…he's not," I frown. "It's like he's going back to being cold and mysterious. I don't know why."

"I don't know either, but don't worry about it," Cinna says. It's gotten dark, and when I look at the clock it reads nine o'clock. I've been in here for over an hour. Time always passes so quickly when I'm talking with Cinna.

"It's time for us to watch the ball. Effie'll have a fit if we don't show up on time," he ties a knot in the fabric and together we make our way to that middle compartment.

Effie seems to have succeeded, because everyone is there, including a drunken pair of mentors. Cato is trying to make Enobaria drink some kind of concoction. The chandeliers above-head are dimmed and the huge, huge flat screen television mounted on the wall opposite to the couches and seats is ready.

"What do I always tell you about being late? It starts broadcasting in a few minutes!" Effie chides as we sit down. I take the free spot in between Octavia and Haymitch, and when Octavia pushes me towards Cato, Haymitch gruffly tells me to sit back down.

"Sweetheart, don't go near him. I've thought this over and I think that this whole cross-district romance is ridiculous," he says, glaring at Cato and Enobaria with blood-shot eyes.

"Likewise," the District 2 mentor snaps. "Let's end this damn thing right now."

Everyone is suddenly tense and Effie is hurriedly trying to break the tension by chattering on about how the broadcast will be live in under five minutes and how we should prepare. But it is Cato who breaks the ice by leaping up and in one swift motion, pouring half of the frothy liquid in his hands down his mentor's throat.

While she coughs and is busy trying not to choke to death, he turns to Effie.

"I'm sorry, while Enobaria gets sober enough to apologize, please go on," he says in this innocent voice. She smiles at the help, and I think that Cato is really quite good at scoring points with people. He obviously can be very polite at times.

Effie turns on the television just in time for us to see the Capitol emblem flash onto the screen and then this lively, elegant tune playing as the broadcast shifts to the guests entering a huge, beautiful mansion lit by thousands of lights. It is nighttime but with the lights the colorful gowns and suits are clearly visible.

"Wow,look at that red dress, and that gorgeous gown!" Octavia breathes besides me. The prep teams are completely entranced by the clothing onscreen. I can't blame them, these people have truly gone all out for this ball, with their masks and wigs, and I even see some costumes flickering with faux-fire. I can see Cinna's amused smile, they seem to have liked my girl on fire approach.

After the guests have all entered and are standing in the lavishly decorated and sparkling ballroom, President Snow makes the opening speech. It is laden with fancy words and cleverly presented ideas, but we all know that he is just reinforcing and reminding all of Panem that the Districts will "forevermore" be controlled and contained by the Capitol. He ends with a flourish and a hand gesture towards the honored guests, who are twittering in their heels and ties.

"Let the Ball begin!"

Cato:

What follows is one of the most ridiculous and time-wasting events to happen all year. After Enobaria shoves me into one of Katniss' prep team freaks and finishes fuming about my nerve, we are quiet as we watch the people onscreen dance and move to the music.

Half an hour in I lean back on the couch and glance at Katniss. The figures onscreen are reflected in her luminous eyes. The eyes that I'm supposedly in love with.

Supposedly…or am I? It's been a while since the arena. A while filled with mentoring and visits from various Capitol idiots. A while filled with girls pressing up to me, with hopeful children and congratulations. There's not much time for love in between.

But this morning when I saw her walk in, there was some kind of jolt that ran down my back. And of course with the cameras rolling and that searching look in those eyes of hers, I couldn't do anything but love her. Love her for the cameras, for the nation of Panem. I don't know if I can afford to love her for my own selfish pleasures. It's too dangerous, I'm too dangerous.

"This ball is in honor of this year's victors, so several of our guests have been invited to share their feelings about the 74th annual Hunger Games."

I tear my gaze away from her and focus on the screen again, the music's stopped and President Snow has just announced the start of the commenting. I remember from when I was thirteen and still so damn innocent. The things they said about the victors was wonderful, and to me back then I wanted nothing more but to be the one they were talking about.

And now that desire comes true, I think. But it feels different than I imagined it would. Instead of being overjoyed and smug, I just want them to hurry and finish gushing about how this romance touched their hearts or whatever else. It's tiring to listen to their cooing and endure their raking eyes.

"First up is Miss Esmerelda Teshid." The president smiles slowly, the skin over his unnaturally puffed lips stretching to accommodate as the rich middle-aged woman makes her way up the stairs to the balcony. She's middle-aged but looks like a young woman, a young woman made of rubber and smooth plastic. Attractive in a grotesque way, all of Panem knows that under all the finery and layers of surgery, she is just as old as they are.

"Oh, my diamond rings…this was a wonderful year. We have not one, but two victors!" Esmerelda takes the microphone from the president and laughs in a high voice. "I think both put on an interesting performance, and I simply adore the romance between them. Young love is so envious, although I must add that Cato stole my heart through the screen."

She winks and then waltzes away while the guests clap and President Snow smiles again.

"Ha." Enobaria guffaws and elbows me in the ribs. I shake my head, unamused. Performance, was it? So it was, but god, that woman has no shame. Katniss' face is going red, even in the dim golden light of the chandeliers I can see that.

"Huh, as if you even have your own heart anymore," she mutters, and I snicker. She's right.

"Next is Miss Rosalie Darling." Snow licks his lips, and gives the cameras some kind of grin. Rosalie is like some kind of daughter to him, they get along as well as Lover Boy and Caesar during interviews, and all of Panem knows that he rarely resists her demands.

When no one steps forward or approaches the staircase, the president says in a tentative way, "Rosalie? Please come forward."

There is nothing but the sound of whispering, and still she doesn't go forward. The cameras are trained on Snow's face the entire time, and it is evident that he is growing impatient and perhaps worried.

"Where is she? Where is Rosalie?" He hisses, there is spit gathering at the corners of his mouth and he glares at the guests while dabbing at it with a handkerchief.

There are a few more moments of shocked silence at the outburst, before an official appears on the screen, tapping Snow's shoulder gingerly before leaning down and whispering something into the president's ear.

He takes a breath, dismisses the official, and smiles a strained, snakelike smile. Hiding the anger that can be clearly made out in those narrowed eyes.

"It appears that Miss Darling is not able to make an appearance tonight."

…

There is a round of why? and is she alright? from the crowd.

"What ever happened?" Katniss' escort says, one hand over her painted lips.

As if in answer, Snow coughs into the microphone for silence before explaining. "It is told to me that Miss Darling is currently tending to her…" He pauses and licks his lips again. "…her dogs, which have become ill."

Enobaria suddenly bursts out in throaty laughter at this, which is joined by Haymitch's guffaw. Both of them laugh while I smirk at the screen and Katniss just sits there, eyebrows raised. Everyone else is simply shocked.

"That girl's got guts." Haymitch finally manages to say, chuckling. "She didn't show up to Snow's precious little ball…so she could take care of her dogs."

Enobaria goes into another fit of deep laughing at this. "Ha, Snow's not going to let her off this time. The beauty queen's finally going to get in trouble with the king."

"Did you see the look on his face?" I ask casually, smirking. We all know that Rosalie adores her pack of dogs, with their blow-dried fur and manicures, but to this level? To suddenly cancel her appearance after the president already humiliated himself in front of the entire nation, and not even bothering to pass on the message herself. It's all so bold.

"He's going to get her back somehow," Katniss says quietly, still staring ahead at the screen, where Finnick Odair is trying to smooth things over for his lover by delivering a charming speech.

Yes, he will be getting Rosalie back. Somehow.

Katniss:

Cato is obviously surprised by how poor District 12 is. He stares at me when I showed him the small house we lived in before Victor Village, and blinks at the Hob when I lead him around the Seam. I think that he's expecting Prim and my mother to look like me, and when he meets them, he looks from them to me in confusion. I couldn't help but laugh, it's new for me to see Cato confused and seemingly lost.

My mother still doesn't approve of our relationship, she still sees him as the monstrous boy that killed Peeta and so many others, but I know that she's grateful to him for protecting me. And Prim? Sweet sweet Prim is full of nothing but thanks, and runs up to Cato and hugs him.

"You move fast, Prim. Your sister waited forever in the arena and you're at it the moment I meet you." He stands still as she lets go and smirks in my direction while I scowl.

"Katniss is lucky, she's pretty and someone like you loves her." Prim says in that innocent way. "Don't you think so?"

"Yes, she is lucky that I…love her." He says, still smirking. I am confused to why he hesitates, but dismiss my doubts. It's nothing, probably.

Gale, like my mother, is against Cato and I being together, and shows it in quite a way. He has this frown on his face the entire time I am introducing Cato to him.

"I didn't think a cousin would be so concerned with Katniss' love life," Cato interrupts, and he has the signature bored expression on his face.

"You take care of her…or else," Gale threatens, and Cato smirks before walking away without a word.

I quickly follow and find him on the train, ready for our departure to District 2.

…

"So…" I say awkwardly. Cato's been staring out the window again, not talking or looking at me. And like last time, I've been sitting in the seat across from him, wondering what's going through his mind.

"Tell me about your family, your home. Just tell me about yourself." I realize that I know nothing at all about him other than what I saw in the arena. Nothing at all other than that his life has been full of people pressuring him to be the best of the best.

"Myself…?" he asks in a surprised voice. "You don't want to know."

But I do, I really do. I want to know everything. I lean forward against the table and give him a determined look.

"I'm an only child. My parents are both peacekeepers in the Capitol. I haven't seen them for eight years." He starts with this sad smile on his face, a smile that accepts everything he's about to tell me, and wouldn't change it for the world.

And I come to know Cato Greene. Raised in the wealthiest parts of District 2, receiving the best education, the best opportunities, the best physical nourishment. He could have become a stonecutter or a peacekeeper, a merchant or a government official. And he chose to start training at eight years old. He had it all, wealth, intelligence, charm, perseverance. But what he didn't have was love.

His parents were away for months at a time, leaving him, a child, alone at home. And when they left permanently to work for officials in the Capitol, Cato was left there. Wealthy and loved by all of his district. But it wasn't enough.

"How…where did you eat and sleep once your parents left?" I ask.

"They left me a mansion. A mansion full of maids and nurses," Cato mutters bitterly. "I fired them all and mostly hung with Clove. Her family fed me most days."

I am silent, they must have been so close to do that. I can imagine Cato going home with Clove and having a good time with the family that he never had. I suppose that Clove was like a sister to him.

"And sleeping? I moved around town, there were plenty of options." He snickers and I realize what he's implying and scowl. He didn't…he couldn't have. But I stare at that pair of eyes and those toned muscles and can believe it.

"I'm kidding. Katniss, I'm just kidding," he reaches across the table and grabs my wrist as I get up to leave. "Don't go."

"We'll see if you were, won't we?" I reply coldly, if it was really just him teasing me, it's not funny.

I try to shake his hand off but he doesn't let go. I stare at him. A boy who craved love as a child and filled that craving by stepping into someone else's life and feeding off their kindness. I remember what Clove said so long ago to me.

"He doesn't love easily…but when he falls, he falls hard."

"So have you fallen?" I murmur. I don't intend for him to hear it but of course he does. He looks at the floor, the beautifully carpeted floor am doesn't say anything, still holding onto my wrist. We are both standing now.

"I don't know. You tell me."

He kisses me, locking our mouths together and for a moment I think that this is just like that last day on the train, but then he quickly pulls away and before I can examine his expression, Cato pulls me into a tight embrace.

It all feels like so much more now that I know about Cato's past. I'm afraid to move, to break the moment and whatever he might be feeling right now. So I just stand there in his arms, burying my face into his chest and savoring the feel of his hand stroking my hair gently.

…

"They're gone. All of them, all of my lovely pups are gone. I know that it was foolish and quite frankly, rude of me to suddenly cancel my attendance that night, but…"

Months later is the first interview with President Snow and Rosalie Darling since before the Victory Tour. Again, after the celebrations in District 2 and the Capitol, I said my farewells to Cato as he was dropped off. I couldn't see him again until the Quarter Quell, another half year away.

This is another of those mandatory viewing television events, and I sit beside Haymitch and Prim on our couch in the new house.

They're gone.

The first words that Rosalie says after she walks onstage and takes a seat. The president is sitting on the couch opposite her and Caesar is standing in between them, in the background.

"…but President Snow, a dozen dogs do not just disappear. They don't die at once, they do not get lost at once, they are not stolen at once," she is fixing him with an intense, cold stare.

"But they can be killed at once. And I found this on my driveway after they disappeared." She is dressed in a beautiful night-blue gown and when she pulls the white, reflective fabric out of a pocket somewhere, there is no mistaking it. It's part of a peacekeeper's uniform.

"Rosalie that is simply a coincidence. You are getting angry at me, as if it was my fault. This is a rather unfortunate event, but what's done is done." The president smiles tightly.

"President, we've had wonderful times together. I know you, and I know when you are telling the truth or not!" She is rising up in her seat, a cascade of dark silk, finery, and midnight black hair, and her voice has risen to a barely contained shout.

"Rosalie, please calm down." Caesar intervenes, and the victor sits back down, still staring at the president.

"Yes, please do. Tell you what, my dear. To make amends for this unfortunate happening, whoever might have caused it…" Snow says the last words with extra force, still smiling tightly. He dabs at his forehead in a gentlemanly way, and continues.

"…I'll grant you anything you wish, as long as it is in my power."

I go over this intense interview in my mind. Haymitch and my mother seem to understand what's going on but Prim seems to be confused. Rosalie humiliated Snow at the ball months ago, practically saying that tending to her dogs was more important than showing up to a prestigious event hosted by the president himself. An event at which she was supposed to speak, and didn't come forward.

And today she is telling all of Panem that her dogs are gone, and implying that it was on President Snow's orders that they were killed. To perhaps calm her down and keep her from speaking more about him, he is granting her anything she wants.

"She certainly had that coming. And he had this coming too, we all know that Rosalie's not going to keep quiet about something like this." Haymitch says as Rosalie thinks onstage. For once he's not drunk.

…

"You cannot solve many conflicts by taking a living being's life, and one hundred years ago that is exactly what the nation of Panem thought would be sufficient enough to bring peace," she says slowly, each accented syllable ringing in my ears. This is important, I can tell by the silence in the crowd onscreen and how Haymitch is leaning forward, hair unkempt but eyes bright and worried.

"I would like to visit District 13. I would like to see how that solution worked out."

The moment she finishes the sentence, President Snow's face twists into a demonic expression of rage and the screen flashes with static before going black.

We stare at the darkened screen, shocked and horrified. And I can only hope that Rosalie will be alright.

…

Mere weeks later is the reading of the card, which is new to me but is remembered by Haymitch and my mother. Another mandatory viewing, and this time when we see Snow onscreen, smiling like nothing happened during that interview, the revulsion is evident in our expressions.

"Quarter Quells are horrible. I wish you didn't have to mentor this one." Prim says as President Snow goes on to tell us what happened in the previous Quarter Quells.

"I know, I know." I pat her on the back and try to seem reassuring.

"Is Rosalie alright?" she asks. I am wondering the same thing, the famous victor hasn't been seen on television or anywhere else, it seems, since that day. Rumors say that she's dead, others say that she's fine. Either way, it is clear that even the Capitol is shaken by what may or may not have happened to their beloved, smiling Rosalie.

It's been even worse in the Districts, in 12 alone there have been scuffles and fights between the new peacekeepers and townspeople, there's a profound, renewed fear and mistrust of peacekeepers and an even stronger hate of President Snow.

I think back to something I saw a few days ago. Flashing words on a screen in the mayor's house when I was there to talk to Madge.

"UPDATE ON DISTRICT 3. UPDATE ON DISTRICT 4. UPDATE ON DISTRICT 6. UPDATE ON DISTRICT 9."

After each flashing of words was a scene from the books about the Dark Days, reporters warning that the level of chaos was increasing, that more force was being sent to each of the districts. Screaming people with masks over their faces, throwing bricks at buildings and peacekeepers. Buildings on fire. Peacekeepers shooting into the crowd, sending up sprays of blood, taking lives at random.

Uprisings. There was no other word to describe it, not in President Snow's dictionary or anyone else's.

Is Rosalie alright? I don't know, Prim. She's started a rebellion that's spread across Panem. Hundreds are dying, uprisings are growing out of control. People are wondering about District 13, wondering what's being hidden there and why President Snow was so horrifyingly angry. I honestly don't think that she's exactly "alright".

Of course I don't say any of that, it would traumatize her.

"I hope so," I say softly, ending it at that. We all look at the screen again just in time to see a little boy dressed in white- I think that it's Snow's grandson – bring up a box full of yellowed, aging envelopes. Centuries of Quarter Quell ideas devised a hundred years ago and ready to be used.

Snow opens the envelope, licking his lips in a way I've grown to hate. Without any hesitation he reads, "On the seventy-fifth anniversary, as a reminder to the rebels that even the strongest among them cannot overcome the power of the Capitol, the male and female tributes will be reaped from their existing pool of victors."

My mother falls back into her chair, hard. Prim cries out, shocked. But I am just staring at the president and his puffed lips. I feel like most people in the crowd onscreen. Baffled, still trying to absorb the information. Existing pool of victors?

Then it hits me, what it means. First I think about Cato and the other victors, to push back the truth. He'll want to volunteer; I know the satisfied look in his eye when he kills. And Rosalie, whether she's still alive or not, this is meant to target her, obviously. If she isn't reaped then she'll have to see twenty three of her comrades fall. Then I have to accept what it means for me. District 12 only has two existing victors. One male and one female. I am that female.

I'm going back into the arena.