Lorne flinched and turned to look at Mark, who had started to toss and turn. Her skin was now clean and free of her own dried blood, her visible wounds seemed to have healed well that night too. She scanned the room for Sophie, but her vision blurred at the thought of confronting her attacker. She sunk down to the floor and knocked over the bucket clumsily, making a loud noise. She had not collapsed into sleep like before, but laid there, staring at the ceiling as the dirty red-ish water spilled out onto the hay around her.
“Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor.”
Believe it or not... I'm team Cato XD
"Yes, because mass suicide is great at parties"