So this is rebellion? Districts charred. People bombed, roasted over? Posters of Snow's decapitated head, with banners saying 'We burn to live' on them, this is district twelve. Rebellions little child. I look around, seeing nothing but darkness, Katniss had to beg to make this trip, and even now there was three hovercrafts floating invisibly overhead. Cato was still in the Capitol, there'd been no word from him since. I'd wake up in tears, dreaming of them hurting him, hurting him for being a part of my life. My heart begins to pound as we walk inside of an old house in the middle of what would have been some type of meadow. I look at the short wire gates that were beaten over. There's a corpse, right there, hanging lifelessly in the wind. I stumble on something soft and slick as I go. I look down at the hissing orange cat, his pale yellow eyes squint in anger as he hisses a hell of a storm at me. Katniss scoops the cat up, even though it's not hard to see that he doesn't like her much. "Buttercup." She sighs as we walk into the house. The cat wiggles until Katniss lets him loose
I'm surprised at how it's set up. Not much you could call a house when everything was pushed together tightly. I look at the large ceramic tub on the far wall, it's caked in thick layers of smoke, in fact everything is covered in thick layers of smoke and dust. I cough trying to get used to the smell. Plutarch had insisted on me going with her, we were both supposed to be leading this rebellion anyways. "So start getting used to each other." Plutarch had told us the other night. I look at the fake golden mocking jay pin I'd gotten last year, when it all started I was so far from the girl that only cared to have blood on her hands, I was a new person. More deadly, but for the right reason. I place my hand over the handle of my grandmothers throwing knife. They'd given me permission to carry it around whenever we went out, which had only been once including now. The president of thirteen was fairly nice. She was near her sixty's but looked fifty, with spools of tumbling silver hair and cold staggering eyes. I place the knife in the leather holster on my freckled arm. There's a Mockingjay printed on the face of it, the smell of old leather fills my nose. Katniss picks up an old dark colored jacket, there's small singe marks near the collar but other than that…. It's fine. I look at the two mattress that lie up against each other. It's hard not to feel sad in the home. A small fragment of burnt leather catches my eyes. The orange cat from outside begins to circle fishily around me, purring under its breath. "Hey, this thing has a more seductive purr than Finnick." I tell Katniss. Katniss laughs. "You sure that's possible?" Katniss asks taking some untouched medicines from a cupboard. I pull the leather out, seeing the soft book. It was hidden here to escape the fire, which barely touched this house, but still looked as if it had. District twelve was the Capitols chimney district, everything was dirty but kept you warm. I turn to Katniss opening the book. "That was my fathers." She speaks in a soft voice. "Where is he?" I ask, picking up the cat from the ground. She looks at me. "He passed in the mines." She says. I blink. "My father did too, they were mining diamonds from the mountains, and then…" I shrug. We sit in silence for a while, Katniss smiles slowly. "I guess we have more in common than we thought." She smiles. I nod softly. "When were not after each other's throats." I decide to let Katniss's get her final moments alone. I walk towards the door, pushing it open slowly. A tall ash blonde boy waits outside, a metal gun in his hands, I can't help but notice how out of place he looks like this.
Peeta smiles as I walk over, the cat in my hands. "That's Katniss's sister's cat?" He ask blinking in the sun. I smile handing him the cat. "He's a survivor." I smile. Another dark haired boy walks from the woods, a sheath of arrows tucked under his arm, a nice old fashioned bow in the other. Katniss walks out. "My dad's arrows." She smiles taking it from him. I look to Peeta as Katniss begins talking about hunting and traps, I knew she'd had some type of skills the day I'd seen her coming after me, and again on the replays of the games, when she blew up our supplies. Katniss was a hell of a partner. And I was glad to be a mocking jay with her.