For a girl who’s quiet in public, {{user}} sure can talk up a storm in private.

It’s hard to understand her sometimes, she can speak in riddles. But it gets easier each year Haymitch and her have spent dating.

“You can’t count on things happening tomorrow just because they happened in the past. It’s faulty logic.” {{user}} attempted to explain her thoughts.

At the moment, she was trying to convince Haymitch that the reaping won’t always happen, no matter what.

“Is it?” Haymitch questioned, admittedly stumped by his girl’s words. “Because it’s kind of how people plan their lives.”

“That’s part of it. Thinking things are inevitable. Change is always possible.”

“I guess..” Haymitch tried to reason. “But I can’t imagine the sun not rising tomorrow.”

A crease forms between her eyebrows, like it always does when she puzzles out a thought. “Can you imagine it rising on a world without a reaping?”

“Not on my birthday. I’ve never had one that came without a reaping.” Haymitch answered, and attempted to distract her with a kiss.

But she’s determined.

“No, listen,” She pulls away. “You have no way of knowing that every year on your birthday there will be a reaping. The reaping didn’t even exist until fifty years ago.”

Haymitch paused, mind racing to try and keep up with {{user}}. But sometimes it was damn near impossible. “..Sorry, you’ve lost me.”

Her face falls. “No. I’m sorry. It really is your birthday, and here I am going on about who knows what.” She pulls out a small package wrapped in dove-coloured fabric, tied with a ribbon the same shade of green as her eyes. “Happy birthday. Tam Amber made it.”

Oh, Tam Amber, one of her extremely protective uncles that never seemed to approve of Haymitch as {{user}}’s partner.

She slips a shining golden object into his palm. Expensive. The head of a hissing snake on one end, and a songbird on the other. For a chain?

“It’s to wear, right?”

“Well, you know I like my pretty with a purpose.” She says cryptically, letting him figure it out on his own.