Dear Katniss,
I'd apologise for leaving you, but I've never been one to lie. It's beautiful here. There's no need to ration, all supplies are seemingly infinite. I feel like a Queen here. Everyone is quick to respond to my demands. Well, I've been told everyone is quick to respond. I'm not the demanding type you see. I'd feel somewhat guilty demanding something. I do ask for things nicely though! But manners don't count here; no one is fussed by politeness. No one is rude of course. I don't know how best to describe how everything works here. It's not like where you are. Come to think of it, the best example is the lake...
I've seen you down by the lake. The one our father took you to swim. It's so different there compared to all the other Districts. You know how it seems silent, but if you listen close you can hear the mockingjay's whistling, and the grass rustling in the wind, the water lapping against the river bank... That's what it sounds like here. Well, not exactly. But it has the same sense of tranquillity.
I want to tell you how we talk here. It's not by speaking or gesturing. In all honesty I'm stumped. But Rue says it's like singing to the mockingjay's. It's not words you're singing to them. Literally its music notes you sing, but it's beyond the theory. It's the meaning behind the notes you project. You sing your feelings, your intentions, your hopes. You project your soul and heart which is eagerly anticipated by the recipient. I know it doesn't make sense, but it's the best I've got. You'll understand when your time comes.
This morning you scowled at Peeta when he tried to hold your hand. But you pushed him away because he wouldn't let you finishing plucking the turkey you caught at dawn. He woke up to find your bed empty and broke out in a sweat. He called for you. You didn't leave a note. When you walked back through the door this morning, holding the turkey satisfied with your prize, he feigned the gentle smile he presented you in greeting. You frowned, rolled your eyes and asked if he'd sat at the bench all morning swirling paints. You're not mad at Peeta, so don't be mean, please.
And before I forget, I wanted to tell you about the ash! The ash that you think plagued our home, from all the destruction humanity brought upon us? Here we don't see ash as a curse. It's a blessing. Ash gives strength for the new to grow; it's the trajectory for new life. I want you to follow the ash, start afresh. See where it guides you.
With love,
Prim