It's strange, watching Daine shoot. She doesn't look like Katniss - she holds the bow differently, holds herself differently - but there's something in the motion of a bow being drawn that always reminds him of Katniss. He can see both of them at the same time, in eye and mind: notching the arrow, drawing the string, letting it fly. That they're in the arena doesn't help; it's nothing but memories for him here.

He sits to the side, back to the water, as Daine practices, and tries not to think too much about anything.