[Her own wings are covered by her dad's hunting coat. She holds her bow in her hand and a couple of squirrels dangle from her belt. She's every bit the huntress from District Twelve today rather than the Mockingjay she had been turned into.
But none of that matters right now. Because she drops the bow onto the soft grass as she closes the space between them for that hug she so sorely needs from the one man who never stopped betting on her.]
I'm sorry. [She barely chokes back the sob that accompanies those words. The weight of his death hangs just as heavy on her as any of the others.] They killed you. Because of me.
[action]
But none of that matters right now. Because she drops the bow onto the soft grass as she closes the space between them for that hug she so sorely needs from the one man who never stopped betting on her.]
I'm sorry. [She barely chokes back the sob that accompanies those words. The weight of his death hangs just as heavy on her as any of the others.] They killed you. Because of me.