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

strip of bandage and placing it on his forehead. It seems weak,
but I’m afraid to do anything too drastic.
I spend the night half-sitting, half-lying next to Peeta, refreshing
the bandage, and trying not to dwell on the fact that
by teaming up with him, I’ve made myself far more vulnerable
than when I was alone. Tethered to the ground, on guard, with
a very sick person to take care of. But I knew he was injured.
And still I came after him. I’m just going to have to trust that
whatever instinct sent me to find him was a good one.
When the sky turns rosy, I notice the sheen of sweat on
Peeta’s lip and discover the fever has broken. He’s not back to
normal, but it’s come down a few degrees. Last night, when I
was gathering vines, I came upon a bush of Rue’s berries. I
strip off the fruit and mash it up in the broth pot with cold water.
Peeta’s struggling to get up when I reach the cave. “I woke
up and you were gone,” he says. “I was worried about you.”
I have to laugh as I ease him back down. “You were worried
about me? Have you taken a look at yourself lately?”
“I thought Cato and Clove might have found you. They like
to hunt at night,” he says, still serious.
“Clove? Which one is that?” I ask.
“The girl from District Two. She’s still alive, right?” he says.
“Yes, there’s just them and us and Thresh and Foxface,” I
say. “That’s what I nicknamed the girl from Five. How do you
feel?”
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