Sierra returned to the cave, arms laden with gathered greens, and strode into the cave where she'd left Flash. As she had asked, he hadn't moved, but did attempt to when he saw the food. She commanded, "Lie back down. I'll bring it to you." She sat next to him and handed him a few leaves, warning him of their bitterness. They both ate quickly and in silence, until Sierra asked to see his wound. She hadn't reapplied the bandage yet, and wanted to make sure no harm had been done. Flash obliged her and lifted up his arm so she had a clear view of his side.

The wound had scabbed over; although it was still liable to tearing open if Flash moved to quickly and pulled the surrounding skin. Still, it wouldn't need another bandage and he could probably move around, as long as he didn't do anything strenuous. Sierra relayed all this to the boy and he quickly asked if he could do anything to help.

She shrugged. "I have everything I need. The supplies I stole from the cornucopia haven't run out, and I can gather fresh stuff easily. The cave has openings all over the cliff face and meadow above."

He perked up when he heard that. "Can you show me some of them?"

Her face split into a smile. "Sure!"

Back in District Eleven, the interview team had arrived. There were actually three of them this time, since Sierra had such a range of ages in her family and President Snow wanted a statement from each of them. It gave him more to work with in order to create the perfect image. He'd even written the questions himself, hoping for workable material. Armed with these questions and their own skills, the three interviewers, one for the parents and oldest son, one for the two teenaged sisters, and one for the littlest ones, entered the Justice Building.

The family was in one of the parlors, the same room where they had said goodbye to Sierra what seemed like months ago. The interviewers smiled charmingly at them and the one assigned to the younger two asked, "Well, who would like to start?" A girl who looked like she was the youngest raised her hand. "Alright," continued the Capitol woman, "We'll start with you." She led the little girl off to another of the parlor rooms where their equipment had been set up. The interviewer for the younger two, Cornelia, sat the little girl down in the big armchair that was the focus of the camera and took a seat next to her on a small footstool. This method was used to make the children look important and, if possible, cute. Cornelia had to admit that the chair definitely worked for this little girl. Bright blonde hair, blue eyes, and a smaller body made for a very nice camera shot. She quickly started on the questions. "So, what did you think when your sister volunteered?"

She answered very sweetly, and with better pronunciation than most children her age. "I didn't know what was happening until Mom told me. Then I was sad because I didn't want Sisi to leave."

The interviewer jumped on the last sentence. "Is that your sister's name?"

"No, Sisi is her nickname. Momo is really Moriah. So, Sisi is Sierra."

Cornelia gave an encouraging smile. "So, what did you say to Sisi before she left?"

The girl glanced down and she knew a juicy bit was coming. "I hugged her and asked her not to go."

"And why did you ask that?"

"Because she would die if she did."

The little girl looked up and Cornelia saw tears in her eyes. The cameraman better be getting that shot, it was positively adorable. But she had to get that last question in before the girl started any ugly crying. "What would you say to your sister right now if you could?"

"I would say," she hiccupped, a sure sign that wails were coming, "that I forgive her for not wanting to live here anymore, and that if she comes back I won't tease her anymore." Then the little girl started crying and had to be hustled back into the other room and her mother, who gave Cornelia a questioning look, which she promptly ignored. It wasn't her fault she had to ask sensitive questions. Oh well, on to the next girl. Moriah was hauled off into the interview room.

After rebinding Flash's wound to prevent stress on the area, she took him through the caves to one of her favorite spots. It was a meadow filled with wildflowers, the one she used when she wanted to talk to the Capitol. Birdsong told her there was no one there, so she helped lift Flash out of the hole that led to the cave network and set him on his feet in the grassy field.

He looked around in wild amazement. "How did you find this place?"

She shrugged. "I was exploring, trying to find good food sources, and I sort of stumbled out into it. There's a lot of useful greens here, and cameras I can use to communicate. How else would I have said thank you when I got sent that first aid kit?"

He jerked his head from the scenery to look at Sierra. "I thought you got that from the pile we left."

She laughed a little. "No, I've actually had two gifts, the kit and the flashlight. How about you?"

He shook his head. "They seem to like singing more than swords." She laughed at his joke, the first he'd ever made that didn't involve someone dead. He wanted to hear her laugh again, so he pointed to a pinkish flower and asked, "What kind is that?" And so the two spent the next few hours discussing flower types and keeping an ear open for intruders.

Since she was a little older, Moriah was asked slightly different questions. "Do you think your sister will make it home?"

The little girl, brown-haired this time, smiled. "Well, there's only three left and she's friends with one. That's pretty good." The interviewer exhaled, relieved. This was the sort of material she was supposed to be getting.

Cornelia progressed to the next question. "Did you like your sister's dress for the parade?" It was always a good idea to get little girls talking about clothes. Capitol girls could talk on the subject for hours.

Moriah tilted her head to the side. "It was pretty, but they said that bird was from here. We don't have any red birds, only brown ones. Why didn't they make her a brown bird?"

Cornelia plastered on a fake smile and replied, "Brown isn't very memorable, dear. And your sister looks so much better in red."

"I didn't think so." The little girl argued. "It just reminded me of the time Sisi got whipped for singing too much. I wish they hadn't made her red."

The interviewer shrank back. Time for this girl to go before she said anything else volatile. Moriah was quickly shooed back to the room with the rest of the family. Cornelia was done now. It was Jedidiah's turn with the two older girls. He grabbed the younger one and headed for the interview room.

Sierra was explaining the properties of peppermint leaves when they both heard a beeping sound. Floating down from the sky, a silver parachute landed in front of the two Tributes and beeped emphatically. Sierra looked at Flash and reached for the package. It was rounder, more like a pot than the square package she'd received before. It was also larger.

Cautious, she undid the latch on top and pulled out a blanket, brown and made of thick fabric. She shook it out of its folds and a small piece of paper fell onto the ground. Flash grabbed it and read, "Stay warm, both of you." The boy looked at the blanket and up at the darkening sky. "We should probably head back into the caves. At least we have something better to use at night now."

For some reason, Sierra began to blush. "You can have the blanket for tonight."

He frowned. "Why? It's going to be cold, and it's certainly big enough for the both of us."

Sierra bit her lip. How did you explain to someone trained to kill that you'd never slept in the same room with a boy your entire life, let alone under the same blanket? Well, he probably won't try anything anyway, and he's right. It gets cold down there. She helped him down through the hole and back to the grassy pile that served as a bed and, fighting a furious blush, laid down next to him. He silently drew the blanket over both of them and promptly fell asleep. It was a good thing too, because once he nodded off, Sierra relaxed and allowed herself to drift off too, secure in the knowledge that, even if she died tomorrow, at least she had made a Career laugh and taught him how pretty flowers could be. Even the poisonous ones.

This day had not been a happy one for Snow. Sierra was still alive, her Career lapdog wasn't going anywhere, and his last tool was wandering around the arena, wondering why he hadn't been picked up and declared the victor. To make things worse, the footage they'd gotten from the interviews with Sierra's family all held traces of rebellion. In fact, so little of the footage did not contain hints of unrest that if he doctored it, there would be about five minutes out of all seven interviews, and he had to use most of what he did have to appease the public. He was being beaten by two Tributes and one family from District Eleven. This was not a good day.

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