THE SECOND DAY OF TRAINING WAS MORE SUCCESSFUL THAN THE FIRST. Luna had given up on Katniss and left her to hang out with Beetee, Wiress, and Mags because that still worked for the plan.

She was practicing tying tourniquets and solving injuries when she saw Peeta sitting in one of the rooms. She hesitantly approached him, hoping that she was on safe ground because he kind of saved her from his district partner the previous day. He had mud, crushed berries, rocks, bark, leaves, and a bunch of other natural items all around him, and he was applying them to his arm, which almost looked identical to tree bark.

"That's really good," she commented, and his head shot up at the sound of her voice. He had been so focused that he did not notice her approaching.

"Thanks," he responded before gesturing to his materials around him. "Wanna try?"

She shook her head but sat down on the ground in front of him, observing his process. She told him, "No, I wouldn't be any good. I can't even draw a stick figure."

"Good thing we're not drawing stick figures, then," he replied, causing her to smile a little bit. "Here. Give it a go," he handed her his make-shift paint brush that consisted of a stick and some pine straw. She sighed but dipped it in some of the mud before applying it to her arm. She tried to follow the pattern that he had on his arm, but it ended up just looking like a muddy mess.

Luna exhaled, "I told you."

"You're too aggressive with it," he commented, and he moved to sit beside her so that he could put his hand on top of hers. He leaned in, and Luna tensed up at the feeling his arm pressed up against hers from behind her. He moved her hand with his and gently touched the end of the brush to her skin. "Gentle brushes."

"Where did you learn this?" she asked, glancing at him, but she was caught off guard by how close he was to her. So, she looked back down at her arm.

He finally sat back, and she released a breath that she didn't even know she was holding. He answered, "I used to decorate cakes back in 12."

"Tree-shaped ones?" she joked. She had never seen a cake that looked exactly like a rock or tree bark.

He chuckled, and she was surprised that she had made him laugh. Maybe it was just that she had never heard anyone laugh in the training room. It was mostly grunting and trash talk. She liked his smile, and it made her stomach feel weird. He nodded, "Yes, tree-shaped ones."

"Well, it's very impressive," she told him because it was. Plenty of people could fight or lift or climb, but there were very few Tributes who had the gentle touch that this kind of thing required, as demonstrated by Luna.

He shook his head. "It's no sword-fighting."

"Sword-fighting is overrated, especially when you only have one working foot," she muttered, looking down at her lap. She felt so pathetic with her injury, despite how much she

Peeta noticed her mood drop, and he glanced down at the brace in curiosity. "Can you feel anything? If you don't mind me asking." He seemed terrified as he asked, like she was about to break down crying or just start screaming at him.

"I don't, and no," she responded, and he was surprised that she answered. She was also surprised, but it was one of the first times someone asked her something about her. "Sometimes, if I see you poke it, or something, I imagine that I can feel it, but if I wasn't looking, I wouldn't notice."

She sighed, shaking her head, and he raised his eyebrows at her, offering, "How about this? I'll teach you how to paint like this if you teach me how to sword fight."

"You've got yourself a deal," she responded with a small smile, and he grinned back at her. And for the first time in years, Luna felt something other than complete and utter rage.

《 ✽ 》

IT WAS TIME FOR INDIVIDUAL EVALUATIONS. This was the part where you show off to the Gamemakers while they sit and have a party, not even watching you, to prove that you're worth something and that you're going to put on a show. Those who scored high were more likely to get the materials that would benefit them in the Games.

When Luna's name was called, she stepped inside the room. The men and women on the stage were laughing, eating, and talking, but Plutarch's eyes were on her. He offered an almost unnoticeable nod as she approached the table. She had planned some things for the assessment, but she wasn't sure what materials she would be given. She scanned the array of weapons and supplies, and she put together a blueprint in her head.

The Head Gamemaker watched as she disassembled a few of the guns and other structures around the room. Guns were very rarely put in the games, but the materials she needed could be found in the land mines around the platforms.

It took her about twenty minutes, but after some hard work, she had an object lying in front of her that would be of great use to someone in the arena. Some of the other Gamemakers had gained an interest in what she was doing, and they stopped to watch her test out the final product.

She carefully picked up the pipe-shaped object, and she turned toward the dummies on the other side of the room. Careful not to tilt her creation too much, she threw it at the dummies as hard as she could before diving under the table.

As soon as it made contact with the ground in front of the fake people, it exploded.

Boom! Many of the Gamemakers gasped or jumped or ducked, despite the fact that they were protected by an invisible shield. Pieces of shrapnel from the dummies sprayed around the room, so it took very little imagination to figure out what might happen to a human body.

She stood up and turned to the Gamemakers with the fakest smile ever, and she said, "Thank you for your time," before walking out of the room.

She ended up getting an 9 on her evaluation.