Although Prim was no expert on how to survive in the Games, she felt much more comfortable now that she had started to take training seriously and was finally able to see some improvements for herself. The thought of lasting seven days was still taunting when she considered the fact that even some of the most promising and skilled tributes went down within the first ten minutes—the bloodbath, as Haymitch had described it. After cutting herself just before lunch, the accident from inexperience rather than carelessness, Prim knew that the target on her back was suddenly all the more appealing. What better way to get to and break Katniss than coming after her? She glanced to the older girl, not wanting to weigh her sister down when the time came to act. Prim was determined to survive and do it on her own.

“Was she okay?” Prim asked, now on the topic of Johanna. It was hard to keep the truth from Katniss, to let facts be left unsaid and not reveal that the other Victor's stunt had been just that; a stunt, a distraction for Peeta. The blonde kept her silence, however, and acted as if she didn't know anymore than her older sister as they made their way into the dining room. Prim squeezed the gauze in her hand once more, waiting on the Avox to return before grabbing anything to eat.

It felt good to know that Katniss had confidence in her, and that she thought 12 would feel the same way. The dark-haired girl wasn't one to lie, or flatter anyone just to spare their feelings, so the things Katniss was saying were a real compliment. “I'm glad you think so,” she said honestly, smiling. “I want to keep working with the knives, but I think I'll try the obstacle course after lunch. I'm not very strong.” She was more of a hider, and had done very well at keeping quiet and being light on her feet when she and Gale had gone out hunting together the spring before last. There was no telling what dangers could lurk in the arena, and Prim wanted to as prepared as possible.

Soon, the Avox returned with the ointment that Katniss mentioned and Prim peeled away the sticky gauze from her wound before raising her hand for the mute woman to work on. The ointment had a pearly shine to it, and barely stung as it was applied to the cut before being wrapped up with a bandage. The pain had already lessened and Prim reached for a sandwich. “I'm glad we're having lunch together,” Prim mentioned. “It's been so chaotic recently. I feel like we never see each other.” Then again, she had spending a lot of her time with Gale, and she felt a little guilty for it.

Down in the cafeteria, Haymitch took a seat with Gale and the other former Victor's after getting his lunch. After a morning filled with physical activity, Haymitch had worked up an appetite. Normally, he didn't appreciate the food that the Capitol offered despite it being fathoms better than anything 12 managed to scrounge together, but on this day, he was happy to have something on his stomach. He bit into a large half of a sandwich and chewed slowly, letting Gale flounder for a moment as he tried to make conversation. Haymitch was hardly the type to come to the rescue of anyone in a social situation (unless it was Katniss). Although, it was smart that Gale was trying to get information out of the others.

Across the table, Chaff laughed deeply at the question. “What are you so worried for?” he questioned in return, setting aside the groosling drumstick that had been in his hand. “Anything over a seven is fine. You don't want to draw too much attention to yourself with a high score. So go in there and show them something that you already know how to do and do it well.” The dark-skinned man paused thoughtfully, “we'll be some of the last to go, a bit of a disadvantage, but you can still make a good impression.”

Haymitch washed down his latest bite with a drink of water. “Do the sword thing,” he suggested, snowballing on the advice that Chaff had given. “Slice off a few of those dummy heads and call it a day. Really, the score doesn't matter,” even though Haymitch recalled his first score being somewhat impressive, especially for someone from District 12. “Murder is non-discriminatory, kid.” Gale already had sponsors, and Haymitch reasoned that he could do horribly during the private session and there would still be people throwing money and gifts at him, willing to help out. District 12 was set between the four of them and Haymitch thought that Gale needed to loosen up.

“Gee, Haymitch,” Johanna began, her voice awash in sarcasm, “you really know how to comfort people.” Haymitch shot her a look that was ignored. “If you want my advice, Gale, just go in and stand there. Look pretty. You'll get a twelve—no problem.” She winked at him before returning to her lunch.

Haymitch scoffed. “That's horrible advice. Don't take it.” Of course, Haymitch knew that Johanna was just trying to rile Gale up, but he was pretty sure the Gamemakers didn't care about who was good looking and who wasn't, or rather, he didn't personally care. “Show off your sword skills,” he added as an afterthought, “charm them on interview night. You get more people on your side when you're out there than closed off with those guys watching you.”