"Finnick!" Something between a shriek and a cry of joy. A lovely if somewhat bedraggled young woman — dark tangled hair, sea green eyes — runs toward… - Suzanne Collins

My spirit. This is a new thought. I'm not sure exactly what it means, but it suggests I'm a fighter. In a sort of brave way. It's not as if I'm never friendly. Okay, maybe I don't go around loving everybody I meet, maybe my smiles are hard to come by, but i do care for some people.

"Katniss," Gale says softly.
I recognize that voice. It's the same one he uses to approach wounded animals before he delivers a deathblow. I Instinctively raise my hand to block his words but he catches it and holds on tightly.
Don't," I whisper.
But Gale is not one to keep secrets from me.
Katniss, There is no District Twelve."

Sometimes when I'm alone, I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena.