What Katniss had said last month. Prim remembered that, remembered why it had happened - that'd been just after Effie had suggested the Games. And while Prim didn't exactly know where she stood on Effie, she at least could agree that Effie didn't...well, Effie might understand more, now. But she was what she had been born into. Like they were. She understood that much, and she knew Katniss cared for Effie. And she'd known that Katniss was trying to sacrifice any love people had for her. She was used to that impulse, too, a bit. ...But it hadn't just been for Effie, had it? That, back then, had been about Sokka. And about being worthy.

It wasn't hard for Prim to imagine a world at war. She'd been through one. It was harder to imagine a place with shinobi, with the powers she knew existed, than it was to imagine war; but Chouji was right. Their worlds were night and day, in many ways.

Prim grips her mug, wondering which part of it he's trying to bring up. "You thought she meant she was training to be a soldier in a different sort of way. A not-Career way." She says the word like a title, because it is, although she doesn't say it meanly. She didn't like the Careers when they had weapons trained on her sister, when they were locked in an arena together, but - if she could do anything, it was forgive. Or at least to try and find peace. "It's something the richer Districts can do. One and Two, normally. Clove and Cato are both from Two. Masonry. They make weapons. Twelve's coal mining."