Gale is trying, she knows. He's stubborn enough to not let it go, but ever - and perhaps that's the reason why he was such a good friend, even if his friendship was always tinged with something else. Gale is trying and she...she supposes that she is too, in her own way. It's a daunting task to tackle or even think about tackling the mass of memories and conceptions that are now rooted deeply into her brain, but she's a fighter. Even if the small spark Katniss had possessed was now all but guttered out. There's traces of it still there. A wisp of smoke that signals the coming of a tiny flame.

Something that even a war could not take, even if she doesn't yet believe it herself. Katniss nods numbly, swallowing painfully. "Okay. What is it?"