action;

[Clove gives a sound. It's not a scream, but it's like one. In its infancy, almost. It's a sound of desperation, maybe more animal than human. Something caught between predator and prey, something all the more dangerous for its uncertainty as to where in the hierarchy it actually belongs.

Clove does her best to keep her hand on Katniss's throat, squeezing, even though that arm hurts from a fall on it. Her face is still bleeding, and she can't care.

While she tries to hold there, she also tries to use the whole of her body to pin the other girl. All except her right hand, which fishes out her hunting knife from the loop at her hip. Clove's green eyes are wider than they usually are, and she's struggling to see through tears of pain and... everything.]