Hunger Games 1

Chapter 38 Romance (1)
For the next hour, I coaxed, begged, threatened, and, if necessary, kissed; finally, pouring the pot of soup down to Peeta.I let him drift off to sleep and then dealt with my own business, wolfing down some bird meat, plant roots, and looking at the images in the sky.There were no new casualties.Regardless, Peeta and I made for an interesting day for the audience.Hopefully the organizers of the contest tonight will let us sleep peacefully.

I couldn't help but look around, hoping to find the ideal tree to rest, but then realized that this was a thing of the past.At least for a while, I couldn't leave Peeta alone on the ground with him unattended.How would I hide it if I left Peeta's old hiding place on the shore without erasing the traces?We were less than fifty yards from there now.I put on my glasses, ready my weapon, sat down, and looked around.

The temperature dropped quickly, and I was bone-chilling before long.Finally, I couldn't take it anymore and climbed into Peeta's sleeping bag.The sleeping bag was warm and snug, and I curled up next to Peeta, but I quickly realized that it wasn't warm but hot because the sleeping bag reflected Peeta's body heat.I touched his forehead, hot and dry, I didn't know what to do.

Let him stay in the sleeping bag, let the high temperature in it help his fever?Or let him out and let the cool night air cool his fever?I finally decided to just soak a bandage and put it on his forehead, which didn't do much, but I was afraid it would be worse in other ways.

I stayed by Peeta's side all night, sitting and lying down, changing his bandages, refraining from thinking of joining him and making me more vulnerable than I was.My current range of activities is on the ground, and I have to be on guard all the time and take care of patients.I found him knowing he was hurt, and whatever instinct drove me to him at the time, I had to believe it was the right decision.

The sky was already pale, and I saw that Peeta's lips were a little wet, and I knew his fever was better.His temperature has not yet returned to normal, but has dropped a few degrees.As I was picking vines yesterday, I saw a bush bearing the kind of berries Lulu knew.I picked the fruit and mashed it in a soup pot with cold water.

Peeta was struggling to get up when I got back into the cave. "You weren't there when I woke up, and I was still worried about you."

I helped him to lie down and said with a smile, "Are you worried about me? Have you looked at yourself?"

"I thought Cato and Graf found you, they like to hunt at night," he said, serious.

"Graf, who is she?" I asked.

"The girl from District Two, she's still alive, isn't she?" he said.

"Yeah, it's just them, us, Thresh, and Foxface," I said, "that's what I call girls in District Five. How do you feel?"

"Better than yesterday, better than before in the mud," he said. "Clean clothes, medicine, sleeping bag...and you."

Oh, come on, it's romantic again, I reached out to touch his cheek, he grabbed my hand and put it on his lips.I remember Dad doing the same to Mom, and I wondered where Peeta got it.Certainly not from his father and the witch.

"I won't kiss you unless you eat," I said.

I made him sit against the wall, and he obediently ate a few spoonfuls of the mashed berries, but he refused to eat the bird.

"You're not asleep," Peeta said.

"I'm fine." I said.But actually, I'm tired.

"Go to sleep now, I'll be on guard, and I'll wake you up if something happens," he said.I hesitated. "Katniss, you can't stay like this all the time."

He was right, I gotta sleep.I'd better sleep now while he's awake and it's daytime again.

"Okay," I said, "just sleep for a few hours and wake me up."

Right now, it's too hot in the sleeping bag.I spread it out on the ground and lay down, bow and arrow clutched in one hand in case of emergency.Peeta sat next to me, leaning against the wall, his injured leg stretched out in front of him, his eyes looking out. "Sleep." He said softly.He brushed back the few strands of hair that had fallen from my forehead with his hands.Unlike the pretentious kisses on stage, his movements are natural and make people feel very comfortable.I didn't want him to stop, and he didn't.He is still stroking my hair, and I have fallen asleep.

It was too long, I slept for too long, I opened my eyes and found that it was already afternoon.Peeta was still sitting next to me, motionless.I sat up, still alert, but the most sound sleep I'd had in days.

"Peeta, you should have woken me up hours ago," I said.

"Why? There's nothing going on here," he said. "Besides, I like to watch you sleep. You look better when you don't frown."

At this point, I frowned again, and Peeta grinned.Only then did I realize how dry his mouth was. I touched his cheek, which was as hot as a coal stove.He said he had been drinking water, but the bottle seemed to be quite full.I gave him some fever reducers and stood by him watching him drink a quart of water and another quart of water.Afterwards, I treated his minor wounds, and they were better. After that, I collected myself and opened the bandages on his legs.

The wound got worse, and my heart sank. There was no obvious pus, but the inflamed leg became more swollen, and the skin was stretched brightly. I saw the red line move to the base of his leg. This is blood. The toxin in his body, if he is not treated quickly, he will definitely die.Herbs and scald ointments I chew won't help, we need strong antibiotics from the Capitol.I can't imagine how much this drug will cost, if Haymitch puts all the sponsorship money together, will it be enough?I doubt.The price of the gift keeps climbing as the game progresses.The money that can buy a meal on the first day can only buy a biscuit on the No. 12 day.And the kind of medicine that Peeta needs has been scarce to begin with.

"Well, it's very swollen, but it doesn't ooze pus anymore." I said, my voice trembling slightly.

"I know what blood poisoning is, Katniss," Peeta said. "It wouldn't help if my mom was around."

"You'll outlive anyone, we win and get back to the Capitol, and they'll heal you," I said.

"Yeah, that's a good plan," he said.But I know he said that mainly to comfort me.

"You need to eat and maintain your strength. I'll make you soup." I said.

"Don't start a fire," he said. "It's not worth it."

"Let's see." I said.When I took the pot to the stream, I found that it was extremely hot.I'm sure the race organizers have been raising the temperature during the day and dropping it at night.However, the hot stones by the brook gave me an idea that maybe I don't need a fire.

There was a flat boulder between the cave and the stream, and I worked on it, sterilizing half a pot of water, and putting it in direct sunlight, dropped a few baked pebbles in the water.It should be said that I am not a good cook, but to make soup, you only need to throw things in and wait for the pot to boil, so I am better at making soup.I shredded the bird, and then crushed the roots that Lulu picked.Fortunately, both things are cooked, just heat them up.Under the double action of sunlight and hot stones, the water in the pot is already hot.I put the meat and plant roots into the pot, kept changing the stones, and then I found some green wild vegetables to adjust the color. After a while, I found some wild onions under the stones, which were good.I chopped up the wild onions and put them in the pot, replaced the stone, covered the pot and let everything simmer in the pot for a while.

There was hardly any game nearby, and I was worried about leaving Peeta alone to hunt, so I played six sets nearby, hoping I had enough luck.I thought of the other contestants. Their food was all fried. Where did they get food?At least three people—Cato, Graf, and Foxface—were supported by the pile of food.Maybe not including Sarrish.I have a feeling that like Lulu, he must know how to find food in the wild.Are they fighting each other?Or looking for us?Maybe one of them has found us and is waiting for a shot.Thinking of this, I hurried back to the cave.

Peeta lay on the sleeping bag, hiding in a crevice of rocks.Although he was in better spirits when I came in, I could see he was in pain.I put a cool towel on his forehead, but after a while, the towel became hot again.

"Do you want anything?" I asked.

"No," he said, "thanks, wait, yes, tell me a story."

"Story? What kind of story?" I said, I'm not very good at telling stories, just like singing.Sometimes, though, Prim begs me to tell her a story or two.

"Tell me something happy, tell me about the happiest day you can remember," Peeta said.

"Happy things?" I blurted out, and I sighed slightly, feeling a little annoyed that it took more effort than making soup.But I still racked my brains to remember the happy things.Most of my happy memories have to do with Gale and the hunt, but neither Peeta nor the audience would be happy with those things.That's Prim.

"Did I tell you how I got Prim's sheep?" I asked.

Peeta shook his head, looking at me expectantly.I started to tell the story.I speak carefully because all of Panham can hear what I say, obviously we are illegal to hunt in the woods, and I don't want to hurt Gail, Gracie Se, the butcher, or even the vigilante, because they also buy meat Eat, it's obvious.

This is real, how I got the money to buy Prim sheep.It was a Friday afternoon, the day before Prim's birthday in May.As soon as school was over, Gail and I went hunting in the woods because I wanted to save enough money to buy gifts for Prim.Maybe buy some cloth for a new dress, or hairbrushes or something.We played many sets in the woods, and the woods were lush and green, but we didn't catch more prey that night than usual.I was depressed on the way home, even though Gail kept reassuring me that tomorrow must be better than today.I saw it when we were resting by the creek—a young buck, about a year old for a deer, with its antlers just coming out and down on them.It stood up and was about to run away, but it was not sure, after all, it was not familiar with humans.This deer is beautiful.

Perhaps it is not so beautiful when two arrows are shot at it, one in the neck and the other in the front of the chest.Gail and I shot it at the same time.The deer tried to run away, but wobbled, and before he could react, Gale slit its throat.Immediately, I felt sorry for killing such a young and innocent life.My heart churns at the thought of eating its meat.

a deer!Gail and I have only killed three heads in total.The first was a doe with a broken leg, but the deer hardly sold for anything.Gail and I dragged it to the black market to sell it. Everyone competed to bid for the meat, causing chaos. Some people even cut the meat themselves, and big holes were dug out of the deer's body and hind legs.Finally Gracie Sey stepped forward and told us to send the meat to the butcher before it was cut up.Although the price was fair, the total price was still low, and since then, we have learned that this kind of prey cannot be sold directly on the black market.

This time we waited until after dark before getting in through the hole in the fence of the butcher's yard.Even though we were known to hunt, dragging a 150-pound deer down the streets of the [-]th arrondissement in broad daylight was never a good thing, as if we were showing off under the noses of the authorities.

(End of this chapter)