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

“You certainly know a lot,” I say.
“Only about bread,” he says. “Okay, now laugh as if I’ve said
something funny.”
We both give a somewhat convincing laugh and ignore the
stares from around the room.
“All right, I’ll keep smiling pleasantly and you talk,” says
Peeta. It’s wearing us both out, Haymitch’s direction to be
friendly. Because ever since I slammed my door, there’s been
a chill in the air between us. But we have our orders.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I was chased by a bear?”
I ask.
“No, but it sounds fascinating,” says Peeta.
I try and animate my face as I recall the event, a true story,
in which I’d foolishly challenged a black bear over the rights
to a beehive. Peeta laughs and asks questions right on cue.
He’s much better at this than I am.
On the second day, while we’re taking a shot at spear
throwing, he whispers to me. “I think we have a shadow.”
I throw my spear, which I’m not too bad at actually, if I
don’t have to throw too far, and see the little girl from District
11 standing back a bit, watching us. She’s the twelve-year-old,
the one who reminded me so of Prim in stature. Up close she
looks about ten. She has bright, dark, eyes and satiny brown
skin and stands tilted up on her toes with her arms slightly extended
to her sides, as if ready to take wing at the slightest
sound. It’s impossible not to think of a bird.
I pick up another spear while Peeta throws. “I think her
name’s Rue,” he says softly.
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