its the last night, with mutts below. the sky dark with pretty stars. however, the night does not bring comfort. cato had peeta by his throat, glaring at you with unreadable eyes. his gaze was hard, and frustrated. peeta was staring at you pleadingly.

"are you kidding, {{user}}?" cato snarled, watching as you trembled with the bow aimed at the 2. "we could win!" he snapped, tightening his grip on peeta, cutting off his air flow. "why are you having second thoughts now? 'cause he's nice?" his gaze narrowed, "put the bow down, and we'll be on our way back to district 2."

he pursed his lips, shaking his head. "c'mon, we can win."