Peeta looks down at it, and finishes rolling up the pant leg to the top of the prosthetic, where it meets his thigh. There's a bed, where the leg meets the flesh, and he nods. "It can come off, but I've never really messed with it very much."

The truth is that it makes him a little sick to look at it, let alone mess with it. "It's pretty low-maintenance, I guess."

He reaches down and detaches the leg, carefully, the sudden unfamiliar lack of weight on his leg surprising and uncomfortable.