Annie blinks, half-horrified as the girl speaks. A swell of fear chocking her as she tries to push back the flood.
The water rising so quickly that the sounds of the snapping trees mingles with the sounds of cannon fire; a dozen dead and she doesn't even know it. And there is nothing she can do now but swim until death comes.
She doesn't know her. Can't remember if she's ever seen her face. But the girl is young. So, if she's a victor, she's a very recent one. But... that doesn't seem to quite fit. Regardless, Annie doesn't believe she's only talking about fish. What she doesn't understand though, is if she is talking about Annie, or worse. Is she talking about herself?
She can't bring herself to ask. She doesn't want to know. Doesn't think she could handle knowing. She fumbles for a few pieces of crackers and a handful of plump red strawberries, because that was what she had come here to do. But her hands are clumsy, suddenly not her own, and she drops one of the strawberries on the ground. It leaves a red smudge of juice behind on the concrete before it rolls away. And all she can do is stare at it.
A meal for the masses.
"They eat what's fed to them," she says. Because that was true for food as well as entertainment. The Capitol craved its extravagances and excitement. "It doesn't mean they have good taste."
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The water rising so quickly that the sounds of the snapping trees mingles with the sounds of cannon fire; a dozen dead and she doesn't even know it. And there is nothing she can do now but swim until death comes.
She doesn't know her. Can't remember if she's ever seen her face. But the girl is young. So, if she's a victor, she's a very recent one. But... that doesn't seem to quite fit. Regardless, Annie doesn't believe she's only talking about fish. What she doesn't understand though, is if she is talking about Annie, or worse. Is she talking about herself?
She can't bring herself to ask. She doesn't want to know. Doesn't think she could handle knowing. She fumbles for a few pieces of crackers and a handful of plump red strawberries, because that was what she had come here to do. But her hands are clumsy, suddenly not her own, and she drops one of the strawberries on the ground. It leaves a red smudge of juice behind on the concrete before it rolls away. And all she can do is stare at it.
A meal for the masses.
"They eat what's fed to them," she says. Because that was true for food as well as entertainment. The Capitol craved its extravagances and excitement. "It doesn't mean they have good taste."