Having found himself in a house in the tallest tree he's ever seen, Peeta takes stock of the situation. There's some thin fog down below that - assisted by foliage - obscures the ground, thereby making it impossible to determine just how high up he is. Various walkways and bridges stretch out from the house he is in - some to platforms or houses on other trees, some disappearing into the surrounding greenery. There's a gentle stillness to the air, as if it is simply waiting for the next breeze, and he can hear birdsong.

He's dreaming. Months of shared dreams have helped him to more quickly recognize the feeling, one that's overlaid with a sense of calm and peacefulness this time.

Peeta pours himself a drink - a sweet wine, from the smell of it - lowers himself into a chair on the house's wraparound porch, and relaxes. If he has to be here, he's going to make the best out of this good dream.