Голодные игры
Chapter 20
I’veseenveryfewsignsofgamearound,butIdon’tfeelcomfortableleavingPeetaalonewhileIhunt,soIrighalfadozensnaresandhopeIgetlucky.Iwonderabouttheothertributes,howthey’remanagingnowthattheirmainsourceoffoodhasbeenblownup.Atleastthreeofthem,Cato,Clove,andFoxface,hadbeenrelyingonit.ProbablynotThreshthough.I’vegotafeelinghemustsharesomeofRue’sknowledgeonhowtofeedyourselffromtheearth.Aretheyfightingeachother?Lookingforus?Maybeoneofthemhaslocatedusandisjustwaitingfortherightmomenttoattack.Theideasendsmebacktothecave.
Peeta’sstretchedoutontopofthesleepingbagintheshadeoftherocks.AlthoughhebrightensabitwhenIcomein,it’sclearhefeelsmiserable.Iputcoolclothsonhishead,buttheywarmupalmostassoonastheytouchhisskin.
"Doyouwantanything?"Iask.
"No,"hesays."Thankyou.Wait,yes.Tellmeastory."
"Astory?Whatabout?"Isay.I’mnotmuchforstorytelling.It’skindoflikesinging.Butonceinawhile,Primwheedlesoneoutofme.
"Somethinghappy.Tellmeaboutthehappiestdayyoucanremember,"saysPeeta.
Somethingbetweenasighandahuffofexasperationleavesmymouth.Ahappystory?Thiswillrequirealotmoreeffortthanthesoup.Irackmybrainsforgoodmemories.MostoftheminvolveGaleandmeouthuntingandsomehowIdon’tthinkthesewillplaywellwitheitherPeetaortheaudience.ThatleavesPrim.
"DidIevertellyouabouthowIgotPrim’sgoat?"Iask.
