"Maybe. I think it might just mean we're all a lot more screwed up than is right," Peeta says, with the sort of honesty that could scathe a weaker soul.
He does cast another glance across the space that he and Finnick are in, with its distinct lack of greenery replaced with sterile furniture that resembles ... a restaurant, maybe. Tables and chairs in a try-hard futuristic style scatter the floor in what he assumes is supposed to be loungey. Honestly, they remind him of the Capitol, and that gets his haunches back up.
That is, until Finnick calms him down some with his last sentence.
Because he's right.
There are a lot of other people here.
Except he wouldn't put it past the Capitol and the Gamemakers to make things just that much more cruel, much more entertaining for the Quarter Quell by changing things up through populating the arena with people instead of rabid animals or something.
He won't say anything about that for now. Because the thought of killing more than other victors is too much for his soul to bear.
no subject
He does cast another glance across the space that he and Finnick are in, with its distinct lack of greenery replaced with sterile furniture that resembles ... a restaurant, maybe. Tables and chairs in a try-hard futuristic style scatter the floor in what he assumes is supposed to be loungey. Honestly, they remind him of the Capitol, and that gets his haunches back up.
That is, until Finnick calms him down some with his last sentence.
Because he's right.
There are a lot of other people here.
Except he wouldn't put it past the Capitol and the Gamemakers to make things just that much more cruel, much more entertaining for the Quarter Quell by changing things up through populating the arena with people instead of rabid animals or something.
He won't say anything about that for now. Because the thought of killing more than other victors is too much for his soul to bear.