When the sky turns rosy； I notice the sheen of sweat on Peetaˇs lip and discover the fever has broken。 Heˇs not back to normal； but itˇs e down a few degrees。 Last night； when I was gathering vines； I came upon a bush of Rueˇs berries。 I strip off the fruit and mash it up in the broth pot with cold water。
Peetaˇs struggling to get up when I reach the cave。 ¨I woke up and you were gone；〃 he says。 ¨I was worried about you。〃
I have to laugh as I ease him back down。 ¨You were worried about me？ Have you taken a look at yourself lately？〃
¨I thought Cato and Clove might have found you。 They like to hunt at night；〃 he says； still serious。
¨Clove？ Which one is that？〃 I ask。
¨The girl from District Two。 Sheˇs still alive； right？〃 he says。
¨Yes； thereˇs just them and us and Thresh and Foxface；〃 I say。 ¨Thatˇs what I nicknamed the girl from Five。 How do you feel？〃
¨Better than yesterday。 This is an enormous improvement over the mud；〃 he says。 ¨Clean clothes and medicine and a sleeping bag 。 。 。 and you。〃
Oh； right； the whole romance thing。 I reach out to touch his cheek and he catches my hand and presses it against his lips。 I remember my father doing this very thing to my mother and I wonder where Peeta picked it up。 Surely not from his father and the witch。
¨No more kisses for you until youˇve eaten；〃 I say。
We get him propped up against the wall and he obediently swallows the spoonfuls of the berry mush I feed him。 He refuses the groosling again； though。
¨You didnˇt sleep；〃 Peeta says。
¨Iˇm all right；〃 I say。 But the truth is； Iˇm exhausted。
¨Sleep now。 Iˇll keep watch。 Iˇll wake you if anything happens；〃 he says。 I hesitate。 ¨Katniss； you canˇt stay up forever。〃
Heˇs got a point there。 Iˇll have to sleep eventually。 And probably better to do it now when he seems relatively alert and we have daylight on our side。 ¨All right；〃 I say。 ¨But just for a few hours。 Then you wake me。〃
Itˇs too warm for the sleeping bag now。 I smooth it out on the cave floor and lie down； one hand on my loaded bow in case I have to shoot at a momentˇs notice。 Peeta sits beside me； leaning against the wall； his bad leg stretched out before him； his eyes trained on the world outside。 ¨Go to sleep；〃 he says softly。 His hand brushes the loose strands of my hair off my forehead。 Unlike the staged kisses and caresses so far； this gesture seems natural and forting。 I donˇt want him to stop and he doesnˇt。 Heˇs still stroking my hair when I fall asleep。
Too long。 I sleep too long。 I know from the moment I open my eyes that weˇre into the afternoon。 Peetaˇs right beside me； his position unchanged。 I sit up； feeling somehow defensive but better rested than Iˇve been in days。
¨Peeta； you were supposed to wake me after a couple of hours；〃 I say。
¨For what？ Nothingˇs going on here；〃 he says。 ¨Besides I like watching you sleep。 You donˇt scowl。 Improves your looks a lot。〃
This； of course； brings on a scowl that makes him grin。 Thatˇs when I notice how dry his lips are。 I test his cheek。 Hot as a coal stove。 He claims heˇs been drinking； but the containers still feel full to me。 I give him more fever pills and stand over him while he drinks first one； then a second quart of water。 Then I tend to his minor wounds； the burns； the stings； which are showing improvement。 I steel myself and unwrap the leg。
My heart drops into my stomach。 Itˇs worse； much worse。 Thereˇs no more pus in evidence； but the swelling has increased and the tight shiny skin is inflamed。 Then I see the red streaks starting to crawl up his leg。 Blood poisoning。 Unchecked； it will kill him for sure。 My chewed…up leaves and ointment wonˇt make a dent in it。 Weˇll need strong antiinfection drugs from the Capitol。 I canˇt imagine the cost of such potent medicine。 If Haymitch pooled every donation from every sponsor； would he have enough？ I doubt it。 Gifts go up in price the longer the Games continue。 What buys a full meal on day one buys a cracker on day twelve。 And the kind of medicine Peeta needs would have been at a premium from the beginning。
¨Well； thereˇs more swelling； but the pus is gone；〃 I say in an unsteady voice。
¨I know what blood poisoning is； Katniss；〃 says Peeta。 ¨Even if my mother isnˇt a healer。〃
¨Youˇre just going to have to outlast the others； Peeta。 Theyˇll cure it back at the Capitol when we win；〃 I say。
¨Yes； thatˇs a good plan；〃 he says。 But I feel this is mostly for my benefit。
¨You have to eat。 Keep your strength up。 Iˇm going to make you soup；〃 I say。
¨Donˇt light a fire；〃 he says。 ¨Itˇs not worth it。〃
¨Weˇll see；〃 I say。 As I take the pot down to the stream； Iˇm struck by how brutally hot it is。 I swear the Gamemakers are progressively ratcheting up the temperature in the daytime and sending it plummeting at night。 The heat of the sun…baked stones by the stream gives me an idea though。 Maybe I wonˇt need to light a fire。
I settle down on a big flat rock halfway between the stream and the cave。 After purifying half a pot of water； I place it in direct sunlight and add several egg…size hot stones to the water。 Iˇm the first to admit Iˇm not much of a cook。 But since soup mainly involves tossing everything in a pot and waiting； itˇs one of my better dishes。 I mince groosling until itˇs practically mush and mash some of Rueˇs roots。 Fortunately； theyˇve both been roasted already so they mostly need to be heated up。 Already； between the sunlight and the rocks； the waterˇs warm。 I put in the meat and roots； swap in fresh rocks； and go find something green to spice it up a little。 Before long； I discover a tuft of chives growing at the base of some rocks。 Perfect。 I chop them very fine and add them to the pot； switch out the rocks again； put on the lid； and let the whole thing stew。
Iˇve seen very few signs of game around； but I donˇt feel fortable leaving Peeta alone while I hunt； so I rig half a dozen snares and hope I get lucky。 I wonder about the other tributes； how theyˇre managing now that their main source of food has been blown up。 At least three of them； Cato； Clove and Foxface； had been relying on it。 Probably not Thresh though。 Iˇve got a feeling he must share some of Rueˇs knowledge on how to feed yourself from the earth。 Are they fighting each other？ Looking for us？ Maybe one of them has located us and is just waiting for the right moment to attack。 The idea sends me back to the cave。
Peetaˇs stretched out on top of the sleeping bag in the shade of the rocks。 Although he brightens a bit when I e in； itˇs clear he feels miserable。 I put cool cloths on his head； but they warm up almost as soon as they touch his skin。
¨Do you want anything？〃 I ask。
¨No；〃 he says。 ¨Thank you。 Wait； yes。 Tell me a story。〃
¨A story？ What about？〃 I say。 Iˇm not much for storytelling。 Itˇs kind of like singing。 But once in a while； Prim wheedles one out of me。
¨Something happy。 Tell me about the happiest day you can remember；〃 says Peeta。
Something between a sigh and a huff of exasperation leaves my mouth。 A happy story？ This ore effort than the soup。 I rack my brains for good memories。 Most of them involve Gale and me out hunting and somehow I donˇt think these will play well with either Peeta or the audience。 That leaves Prim。
¨Did I ever tell you about how I got Primˇs goat？〃 I ask。 Peeta shakes his head； and looks at me expectantly。 So I begin。 But carefully。 Because my words are going out all over Panem。 And while people have no doubt put two and two together that I hunt illegally； I donˇt want to hurt Gale or Greasy Sae or the butcher or even the Peacekeepers back home who are my customers by publicly announcing theyˇd breaking the law； too。
Hereˇs the real story of how I got the money for Primˇs goat； Lady。 It was a Friday evening； the day before Primˇs tenth birthday in late May。 As soon as school ended； Gale and I hit the woods； because I wanted to get enough to trade for a present for Prim。 Maybe some new cloth for a dress or a hairbrush。 Our snares had done well enough and the woods were flush with greens； but this was really no more than our average Friday…night haul。 I was disappointed as we headed back； even though Gale sa