I turn my face against the sting of the sharp granules of sand whirling in the harsh winter wind. The chill just makes me jog faster. When I reach the old electric fence, the supposed boundary of District 12, I instinctually pause to make sure it is not humming with electricity before I jump over it, but the sharp metal is deadly silent.

I glance at the darkening sky, wondering if I'll get back to my house before dark. I spent the entire day in the woods and spent the afternoon hunting small game until the friction of the tough bow blistered my skin. I knew then that it was time to head back.

I do not need to hunt for food; as a Victor of The Hunger Games and Panem's popular icon for rebellion I am well provided for. Nevertheless, everyday I venture into the woods. I do not hunt for sport either, no longer feeling a rush of adrenaline when I send an arrow through the air. These days, hunting is just an insipid respite from reality. It is all that makes sense anymore. It serves as an unwelcome reminder of what I am. I, Katniss Everdeen, am a killer.

My jog becomes a run when I enter town but, as the bakery materializes in the distance I slow down and eventually stop. In the window sit a group of ornately decorated cakes. Seeing them adds a tinge of pain to the hollowness I feel, reminding me that I am still, in fact, alive. As usual, I study the window intently, attempting to catch a glimpse of what [who] is inside, but the icy condensation shields the inside of the bakery from my searching eyes. Zipping up my coat, I continue my run.

When I finally arrive back at the house, I take a seat next to the artificial fire place

This too, is out of habit; my house in Victor's Village has electricity. As I warm up, I relive the events of the day.

This morning I woke up to find a note on my door, and after reading it I only suspected the worse.

Katnip-

Meet me in the woods as soon as you see this.

I have something I need to tell you about, sort of like a proposition.

-Gale

Gale has been my best friend since childhood, but lately our relationship had become…complicated. At one time our friendship was comfortable and enjoyable but it has since been tarnished by unrequited desires and pain. I threw on my boots, and hurried to the woods.

When I arrived at the right spot Gale was nowhere to be found. I called out his name softly once and then louder a second time, but stopped when I felt a pair of warm hands grasp my shoulders.

"Hey, Katnip," a voice said softly.

I smiled half-heartedly and turned around. "Hey Gale."

He smiled back but I could see apprehension in his eyes. Perhaps sensing my observation, he looked down and shuffled his feet. It was unlike him to be shy. "So…you got my note."

"Yeah…um…is something wrong?"

"Well…," he turned around and ran his hands through his dark hair. "I'm uh…I'm leaving."

"Oh," I replied, "Where are you going?

He turned around and smiled, "Oh I don't know… I figure I may live in the woods for a little while, go visit what's left of the districts," he cleared his throat, "Who knows? I may even make it to the ocean."

I swallowed, "Wow, Gale that's great that's really-

"Great?"

"Yeah," I looked down at my feet. I have never really been "great" with words.

"Katniss?" Gale came closer and I peered up at him. "I'm going to say this because I think that if I don't, I'm always gonna wonder what if…"

"Don't-

"-Katniss."

"Gale?"

He put his calloused fingers underneath my chin and forced me to look at him. "I am leaving. I am finally running away. And I want you to come with me."

I tried to stay calm but the breath I let out made a whoosh sound. Gale looked at me expectantly. "Gale I- I can't"

"Why not?," He asked, not incredulous, just curious.

How could I answer that question? How could I tell him about the Quell, and about the assassination? How could I explain to him my feelings for Peeta, when I don't even know what they are? How could I admit to him that I am nothing but a shell of a human being? That I can no longer give love or receive it? I couldn't so, instead, I gave him the answer he already knew.

"I can't. Every time I look at you I see Prim. I see her frightened face. I hear her screaming. And I know her death wasn't your fault….but I can't just run away with you after all that happened."

He sighed, "I had a feeling you'd say that." He turned away from me, attempting to mask his disappointment. " I just wanted to…to make sure."

"I'm sorry Gale,"

"I know. Me too," he whispers.

For a moment the only sound was the wind blowing, and the winter birds chirping in the icy morning mist. Suddenly he spoke.

"You still care about me, don't you?"

"Of course I do I just-

"-Then you have to let me do something…before I go."

"Anything," I state simply. I owe him that much.

He didn't speak but turned around, taking three long strides until he was standing so close to me I could hear his racing heartbeat. I felt his finger gently tilting my face up to his eyelevel. In his eyes I saw pain, love, and an emotion I couldn't quite place; something that caused his brown eyes to smolder like hot coals.

"Katniss," he whispered gently like a caress. Then he kissed me, gently at first but then with undeniable passion. For a moment I froze, but then I was kissing him back. I felt it as his hands slid slowly down my sides to rest at my waist, leaving a trail of blazing heat in their wake that I absorbed even through my clothes. He kissed me with frustration, grasping my braid at the nape of my neck, and I responded with what I hoped was equal ferocity. I tried to give him all that I could in that kiss, but it still was not enough. I could feel his anger dissipate as he began to kiss me with regret for what had happened to us; for what happened to everyone. Suddenly his lips were no longer moving with mine and I opened my eyes to see him standing in front of me, his breathing ragged. Then I was immediately enveloped in his arms, and for a moment I felt as if everything was how it used to be.

"Thank you for that…f-for all of it," Gale whispered placing a kiss on my forehead. Slowly, he disentangled himself.

Abruptly, I remembered something; reaching into my coat pocket I took out my gold Mockingjay pin, turning the circle of tarnished gold in my fingers. I couldn't give Gale much, but I could give him this.

"Here," I said fastening it on his lapel, "To protect you."

Gale's eyes grew soft and moist and he placed his large rough hand over my small one, where it had settled on his chest. Then he slowly pried my fingers off of his coat. He walked over to the trunk of a vast oak tree and retrieved his bag.

" See ya' later, Katnip," he said the words jovially, witch a nonchalance that contrasted with his intense gaze. Will I? I wondered. Will I see him? But I did not ask the question because I already knew the answer.

"Yeah, I'll se you…," I replied instead.

Gale nodded at me and then turned away, starting down the forest path.

"Gale?" I yelled, suddenly and he whipped around, his face bearing a trace of hope. "I love you," I whispered.

He sighed and smiled slightly, "You too."

Gale continued down the path and as I watched him fade into the morning dew, I my throat became thick and my eyes burned but I did not cry. I couldn't. Instead, I whistled a short dissonant tune and a chorus of Mockingjays followed, but after the symphonic chirping died out…the forest was deathly silent.

I am dragged away from my thoughts by a searing pain in my left hand, which is tightly grasping the armrest of my fireside chair. I decide to go to bed and worry about it in the morning.

Before climbing underneath the covers, I retrieve a portrait from my night stand. My fingers gently caress the photograph and softly, I begin to sing.

Deep in the meadow
Under the willow
A bed of grass
A soft green pillow

I kiss it lightly, "Goodnight, little duck." I place the portrait of Prim back on the nightstand and climb into bed, falling into a restless sleep.