Got him. I walk over and pull an arrow out of a squirrel's limp, lifeless body. I grab his tail and lift him into the air. He's plump, with a good pelt, too. After I'm done admiring my prize, I tie him to my belt and start heading home. On my way I see something that makes my heart skip a beat. A dead rabbit dangling a foot above my head. The snare that had captured the rabbit looks just like the ones my father used to make. I drop my bags and reach up to admire the handiwork. Suddenly I hear a voice from behind a tree. "That's dangerous." Startled, I jump back at least three feet. A boy steps out from behind the tree. He has black hair, olive skin, and gray eyes. His face hints he's about fourteen, but he's about six feet tall. He's from the Seam. I've seen him around there and school. But there's something else that I'm missing. Something I recognize him from. "What's your name?" he asks. He walks over to the snare and cuts the wire, releasing the rabbit's body. He ties it to his belt, as I do with my catches. It's hard to speak, so when I whisper, "Katniss." It's even hard for me to understand. "Well Catnip, stealing's punishable by death," He tilts his head. "Or haven't you heard?" Actually, I do know this. But I also know that what we're doing can get you a bullet in the head as well. "Katniss." I say in a louder tone, but still quiet. "And I wasn't stealing it. I just wanted to look at your snare." He stares at me, obviously waiting for more. I shrug my shoulders. "My snares never catch a thing." He squints and presses his lips together, still not satisfied. "So, where did you get that squirrel?" he asks. I pull my small bow off my shoulder. The boy's eyes brighten at the sight of my weapon. "I shot it." I say. His eyes don't leave the bow. "Can I see it?" I normally would say no to someone, but to honest, he is so intimidating; I'm actually scared of him. So I hand it to him. He grabs it, full of excitement. "Just remember," I say. He looks up at me. "Stealing's punishable by death." He smiles and turns his attention back to the weapon. That smile transformed his intimidating face, into a face I wish I knew. So I ask, "What's your name?"