I am standing in the meadow along the edge of the forest. It is springtime here. The wisps of grass sprout from the ground like the fuzz on a new baby's head. Budding trees drop flowery petals onto the ground like light snow. I haven't seen this place since the early summer of last year, before I left for the Quell.
How long has it been? Nine? Ten months? I don't care at the moment because I am to overcome with awe. Watching my woods change before me.
Barefoot, I walk around on the cool earth taking in the familiar splendor. Despite all that has happened, all that the Capitol has taken from me, the forest remains mine. The damp earth and wooded pines seem to whisper memories of my father back to me. Of the traps he made, the plants he described, the songs he sang.
His presence seems almost ancient now. As if my memories have turned to legendry stories that I have only heard about but never experienced.
A breeze picks up and pushes me towards the shaded woods.
"Come closer." It whistles through the wind. I comply with the persuasive air and move my feet towards the tree line.
Fingerlike branches beckon me forward, asking me to come further into the shadows. I do but my pace slows, worried that my bear feet will step on sharp twigs.
My bear feet. Where are my shoes? I don't even remember putting any on. Did I wander out here without them? That seems unusual, I never have before.
I stare down at my feet, trying to remember if I left my shoes in the meadow. But just as I am about to turn back, I hear a distant sound. A rumble in the bushes, deep within the woods.
My senses are alight and my eyes grow wide. Something is out there. An animal? Or enemy? I don't know and my hand reaches for an arrow automatically. But my palm doesn't catch one. I feel for my bow too. But that isn't here either. I am weaponless.
Defenseless, I turn towards the sunlight. Towards the meadow. But just as I prep for a run, the roar pounds in my ear. A loud and deep rumble of a dog's growl. No, not a dog. A mutt.
The black mass appears in the dim light and it's large feet stomp against the ground. It situates itself along an invisible path. A beeline headed straight for me. The target.
I force myself into a run again, out of the tree line and towards the sunlight. But the rays of warmth are gone. It is dark and I can't see the meadow anymore.
Where am I? Am I in the meadow? No, I can't be. Not with the savage mutts. The only place that mutts can live in is the arena.
Distracted by my thoughts, I see that three more mutts have sprung up from the ground. Each one staring at me with their cold and unfeeling eyes.
My feet barely touch the grass as I am moving so fast and the palpitations of my heart beat wildly against my ears. I don't know where I am going. I just know that I have to go.
The sounds of their claws digging into the dirt grow louder and louder until I can almost feel presence against my pulsing thighs.
I don't know how I got here or where I am now but this is it. This is where I die. After all that has happened.
Feeling their fur against me, I begin to scream. The veins in my neck grow taught like braided rope and my lungs sting from the lack of air. I brace for the impact of their sharp canines biting into my flesh. But it doesn't come. Instead, I am greeted with silence.