No way was she going to kill him. Cindy probably should, and she knew that she should, but she was taken off-guard by this whole thing. The arena was too pink and sugary, the stuff that you could grab was weird as hell, and there were just too many people. She knew there were a lot of tributes, but the sheer size was daunting.

And... what happened if she did kill him? He'd remember that when they all poofed back into the capitol or whatever they did. She'd remember that when they got back. Maybe that was the worst thing the gamemakers did to them; made them remember the last face they would ever see.

No. She needed to go grab supplies, and high tail it out of there. "Sorry, R. I promise, we'll finish that letter." She had promised, and now she had promised again. Before he could get up, she was gone.