k　to　our　cave。　Otherwise；　I　wouldnˇt　risk　it　with　Cato　after　us。

The　boulders　diminish　to　rocks　that　eventually　turn　to　pebbles；　and　then；　to　my　relief；　weˇre　back　on　pine　needles　and　the　gentle　incline　of　the　forest　floor。　For　the　first　time；　I　realize　we　have　a　problem。　Navigating　the　rocky　terrain　with　a　bad　leg　�　well；　youˇre　naturally　going　to　make　some　noise。　But　even　on　the　smooth　bed　of　needles；　Peeta　is　loud。　And　I　mean　loud　loud；　as　if　heˇs　stomping　his　feet　or　something。　I　turn　and　look　at　him。

¨What？〃　he　asks。

¨Youˇve　got　to　move　more　quietly；〃　I　say。　¨Forget　about　Cato；　youˇre　chasing　off　every　rabbit　in　a　ten…mile　radius。〃

¨Really？〃　he　says。　¨Sorry；　I　didnˇt　know。〃

So；　we　start　up　again　and　heˇs　a　tiny　bit　better；　but　even　with　only　one　working　ear；　heˇs　making　me　jump。

¨Can　you　take　your　boots　off？〃　I　suggest。

¨Here？〃　he　asks　in　disbelief；　as　if　Iˇd　asked　him　to　walk　barefoot　on　hot　coals　or　something。　I　have　to　remind　myself　that　heˇs　still　not　used　to　the　woods；　that　itˇs　the　scary；　forbidden　place　beyond　the　fences　of　District　12。　I　think　of　Gale；　with　his　velvet　tread。　Itˇs　eerie　how　little　sound　he　makes；　even　when　the　leaves　have　fallen　and　itˇs　a　challenge　to　move　at　all　without　chasing　off　the　game。　I　feel　certain　heˇs　laughing　back　home。

¨Yes；〃　I　say　patiently。　¨I　will；　too。　That　way　weˇll　both　be　quieter。〃　Like　I　was　making　any　noise。　So　we　both　strip　off　our　boots　and　socks　and；　while　thereˇs　so