It was habit. Even after everything she's been through, Katniss still instinctively stopped in front of the chain-link fence (what remained, anyways), and listened for the telltale electric humming she knew she wouldn't hear. She no longer had to climb under the fence either; there was a gaping hole where it had been melted in the bombing that had devastated District 12, not to mention the fact that workers were taking down more and more of the fence every day since it really had no purpose anymore. Nevertheless, Katniss found a loose section a ways down and climbed under it. She's been doing similar small things, such as concealing her bow and sheath of arrows in a hollow log; things that were no longer pertinent since the Capitol had been defeated and she was in no danger of breaking any of its tedious laws. But these things, these small habits of a former life, seemed to aid her in maintaining what was left of her sanity. Katniss was clinging to such aspects of her past, a past when she did her utmost to protect her sister Prim, the one thing she loved above all things in the world; before not one, but two times in the Hunger Games arena; before she'd accepted her title of the Mockingjay. But she had done her utmost and the odds had still not been in her favor.
Katniss crunched through the woods over the autumn leaves, taking in the crisp, cool air. This was the only thing she disliked about fall; even she couldn't remain unheard as she treaded over the freshly dead leaves. She hummed as she walked, which she seemed to do more and more often now.
Something moved, rustling the undergrowth, and a sleek brown rabbit appeared. Katniss froze and sent an arrow through its eye before it knew what was going on.
Rabbit in hand, Katniss walked until she reached the familiar little concrete house. Walking in, she was reminded of the time when she and Gale had talked in here. They'd talked of running away. Now, after an infinite amount of casualties and the fall of the Capitol, Katniss considered what would have happened if they'd actually carried out her plan of taking their families and going to live deep in the woods. Away from the oppression and raging rebellions against the Capitol that she'd ignited. She, the spark. What would have happened the nation of Panem? There would still be Hunger Games. There would still be oppression, unjust executions of the innocent, and a nightmare of a president at the head of it all.
Katniss focused her eyes, shook out her head, set her weapon on the floor next to the cold fireplace, and went outside to skin and gut the rabbit. Sitting on an enormous fallen tree, she'd just begun when she heard more rustling. Instinctively looking up, she caught a glimpse of a rabbit. It wasn't the usual rabbit typical to these woods though. It's coat was white and flawless. Only once before had Katniss seen a white rabbit in these woods.
She'd been hunting with he father. It was one of the very first times she'd shot an arrow, and she remembered it vividly. Her father had stopped walking and fell silent, and the Mockingjays had begun to echo his melody. Katniss froze at his side. Slowly, he pointed to his left and looked excitedly at Katniss. The rabbit's white fur stood out against the greenery, almost like a dream, it looked so out of place. Katniss's father nodded at her and stepped out of her way. Katniss lifted her loaded bow, aimed for the rabbit's eye, and let the arrow fly. She lowered her bow, expecting to see a bloody mess, as she wasn't at all confident in her abilities to slaughter an animal properly. The rabbit looked up, and as the arrow soared through the open space, the creature dashed away. Katniss looked disappointedly at her father as the rabbit bounded out of sight, but he smiled and praised her ability. When her father retrieved the arrow, he inspected it, then looked proudly at Katniss.
"Looks like you grazed his face," he told her.
Now, sitting outside the concrete house, her father long dead, Katniss felt a sudden surge of determination. Going into the house as quiet as only a hunter can be, she retrieved her bow and loaded it. Peering out the door, she was excited to see that the rabbit was still there, quietly sitting as still as the bush it was trying to hide in. Standing in the doorway, the aspect of a pearly rabbit fur looming in her thoughts, she aimed carefully. She was about to shoot, but noticed something and hesitated.
On its mouth, the rabbit had the slightest hint of red; blood. Katniss lowered her bow and strained her eyes, unsure if the blood was real or not. She didn't trust anything she saw these days, hallucinations weren't uncommon. She was sure the blood was real when the rabbit noticed her. It turned its head toward her.
Katniss's heart stopped. Her thoughts came to a complete halt. Her entire body seemed to be disconnected, and the blood drained from her cheeks as the rabbit's snakelike eyes seemed to pierce her, and it dashed out of the rose bush out of sight.