"I almost forgot! Happy Hunger Games!" He plucks a few blackberries from the bushes around us. "And may the odds—" He tosses a berry in a high arc towards me. I catch it in my mouth and break the delicate skin with my teeth. The sweet tartness explodes across my tongue. "—be ever in your favour!" I finish with equal verve. We have to joke about it because the alternative is to be scared out of our wits.