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

quickly. But the gash on his leg . . . what on earth can I do for
that?
“Why don’t we give it some air and then . . .” I trail off.
“And then you’ll patch it up?” says Peeta. He looks almost
sorry for me, as if he knows how lost I am.
“That’s right,” I say. “In the meantime, you eat these.” I put
a few dried pear halves in his hand and go back in the stream
to wash the rest of his clothes. When they’re flattened out and
drying, I examine the contents of the first-aid kit. It’s pretty
basic stuff. Bandages, fever pills, medicine to calm stomachs.
Nothing of the caliber I’ll need to treat Peeta.
“We’re going to have to experiment some,” I admit. I know
the tracker jacker leaves draw out infection, so I start with
those. Within minutes of pressing the handful of chewed-up
green stuff into the wound, pus begins running down the side
of his leg. I tell myself this is a good thing and bite the inside of
my cheek hard because my breakfast is threatening to make a
reappearance.
“Katniss?” Peeta says. I meet his eyes, knowing my face
must be some shade of green. He mouths the words. “How
about that kiss?”
I burst out laughing because the whole thing is so revolting
I can’t stand it.
“Something wrong?” he asks a little too innocently.
“I . . . I’m no good at this. I’m not my mother. I’ve no idea
what I’m doing and I hate pus,” I say. “Euh!” I allow myself to
let out a groan as I rinse away the first round of leaves and
apply the second. “Euuuh!”
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