suzanna-kollinz-acliq-oyunlari-1-hisse-eng

admire her cleverness. It’s right at the edge of the wood, but
the bushy foliage is so thick down low I can easily observe the
Career camp without being spotted. Between us lies the flat
expanse where the Games began.
There are four tributes. The boy from District 1, Cato and
the girl from District 2, and a scrawny, ashen-skinned boy
who must be from District 3. He made almost no impression
on me at all during our time in the Capitol. I can remember
almost nothing about him, not his costume, not his training
score, not his interview. Even now, as he sits there fiddling
with some kind of plastic box, he’s easily ignored in the presence
of his large and domineering companions. But he must
be of some value or they wouldn’t have bothered to let him
live. Still, seeing him only adds to my sense of unease over
why the Careers would possibly leave him as a guard, why
they have allowed him to live at all.
All four tributes seem to still be recovering from the tracker
jacker attack. Even from here, I can see the large swollen
lumps on their bodies. They must not have had the sense to
remove the stingers, or if they did, not known about the leaves
that healed them. Apparently, whatever medicines they found
in the Cornucopia have been ineffective.
The Cornucopia sits in its original position, but its insides
have been picked clean. Most of the supplies, held in crates,
burlap sacks, and plastic bins, are piled neatly in a pyramid in
what seems a questionable distance from the camp. Others
are sprinkled around the perimeter of the pyramid, almost
mimicking the layout of supplies around the Cornucopia at the
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