Something was wrong. There was a different sort of tension radiating away from Katniss. It wasn't the sort that came from the Hunger Games or District Twelve. It was new, just like the pinks patches of skin. Reaching out, he gently placed his arms on hers, just below the shoulders. It was a steadying gesture, one that he did without thinking.

"Katiniss," he sighed, feeling better just knowing that she was alive. That had been all he had wanted. "You had just shot the arrow into the ceiling of the arena and everything went nuts. But you're alive, that's all that matters."