Girl talk. That thing I've always been so bad at.

In really bad times, the hungriest would gather at his door at nightfall, vying for the chance to earn a few coins to feed their families by selling their bodies. Had I been older when my father died, I might have been among them. Instead I learned to hunt.

My name is Katniss Everdeen.
Why am I not dead?
I should be dead.

As far as I can tell, they never get up before noon unless there's some sort of national emergency, like my leg hair.

I don't know how to make people like me. Cinna, how do you make people like you?

Great. Now I have to go back and tell Haymitch I want an eighty-year-old and Nuts and Volts for my allies. He'll love that.