Голодные игры

           "Supposewetiesomeknots,"Isay.

           "Rightyouare,"saysPeeta.Wecrosstoanemptystationwherethetrainerseemspleasedtohavestudents.Yougetthefeelingthattheknot-tyingclassisnottheHungergameshotspot.WhenherealizesIknowsomethingaboutsnares,heshowsusasimple,excellenttrapthatwillleaveahumancompetitordanglingbyalegfromatree.Weconcentrateonthisoneskillforanhouruntilbothofushavemasteredit.Thenwemoveontocamouflage.Peetagenuinelyseemstoenjoythisstation,swirlingacombinationofmudandclayandberryjuicesaroundonhispaleskin,weavingdisguisesfromvinesandleaves.Thetrainerwhorunsthecamouflagestationisfullofenthusiasmathiswork.

           "Idothecakes,"headmitstome.

           "Thecakes?"Iask.I’vebeenpreoccupiedwithwatchingtheboyfromDistrict2sendaspearthroughadummy’sheartfromfifteenyards."Whatcakes?"

           "Athome.Theicedones,forthebakery,"hesays.

           Hemeanstheonestheydisplayinthewindows.Fancycakeswithflowersandprettythingspaintedinfrosting.They’reforbirthdaysandNewYear’sDay.Whenwe’reinthesquare,Primalwaysdragsmeovertoadmirethem,althoughwe’dneverbeabletoaffordone.There’slittleenoughbeautyinDistrict12,though,soIcanhardlydenyherthis.

           IlookmorecriticallyatthedesignonPeeta’sarm.Thealternatingpatternoflightanddarksuggestssunlightfallingthroughtheleavesinthewoods.Iwonderhowheknowsthis,sinceIdoubthe’severbeenbeyondthefence.