It takes a few moments to find Cato in the dim light, in the blood. Then the raw hunk of meat that used to be my enemy makes a sound, and I know where his mouth is. And I think the word he’s trying to say is please. Pity, not vengeance, sends my arrow flying into his skull. Peeta pulls me back up, bow in hand, quiver empty. “Did you get him?” he whispers. The cannon fires in answer. “Then we won, Katniss,” he says hollowly. “Hurray for us,” I get out, but there’s no joy of victory in my voice.
😭😭
