Chapter 4: The Wasteland

We walk all through the night that first night and through most of the next day. By noon, we are exhausted, but press on. As we march through some tall grass, Gale frowns.

"We're sure to leave footprints on this terrain." He makes a quick decision after glancing over to his left at the river we've been following. "We need to cover our tracks." He holds up a hand for silence.

"OK, everyone! We're going to need to lose our tracks, so I say we walk these next several miles in the river. Then we can cross over!"

"Do we have to cross just here?" Prim complains.

Gale looks up from where he's been fiddling with his pant leg. "It's easy! Roll your pant legs and hike them up over your knees. Then you can take off your shoes or other clothes and carry them over your head."

Prim still looks unsure.

"It's better than walking around for hours in wet clothes," Peeta points out to her. My little sister nods. We set about rolling up our pant legs, taking off our shoes.

"Wait, what about our socks?" Rory wants to know.

"Leave them on, kid," Haymitch orders. "One piece of wet clothing is better than getting hypothermia. Besides, I have something that might help." He digs around in his pack before pulling out a plastic bag filled with balls of white fluff. I step closer for a better look.

"Is that wool?" I ask.

"Yup. I bartered them off the Goat Man. Lied and said I needed to re-stuff my mattress at home. It'll absorb any water all right." Haymitch deals out the balls of wool to each of us, ordering us to stuff them into our socks. I begin to feel toasty around my toes and we haven't even entered the water yet.

"Everybody ready?" I ask, scanning for my family. "Gale? Mother? Peeta?" I don't see my district partner right away and spin about in a panic. "Peeta!"

"What?" He's standing over by a tree. It looks like he's whittling something.

"What are you doing?"

He straightens with a boyish smile. "Look! I fashioned a walking stick!"

I can't help but smile and shake my head in amusement.

"All right, everyone! Shake a leg! We'd better keep moving," my mother orders.

Tentatively, we all step into the stream. Someone immediately yelps.

"Holy shit, that's cold!" Peeta squeaks, sloshing faster through the water and moving right past me, his walking stick smacking the current. I share a look with Gale and we snicker.

"Bread Boy's been around ovens too long. He'd better get used to the cold."

"He is," I reassure my best friend. "There were plenty of cold nights in the arena."

"Yeah, and do you really think he felt any of that? He was cuddled up next to you every night," Haymitch grumbles as he shuffles between us.

I blush scarlet and try not to notice Gale look away.

Hours pass like this. Eventually, everyone – even Peeta – gets used to the cold water. Even then, there's only so much we can take. It is maybe an hour after nightfall, and I can see some of our group getting tired. Prim is trudging along.

"When can we set up camp?" she whines. "I wanna go to sleep."

"Here, Prim. Get on my shoulders. Urrr….. Up you get," Peeta coaches, continuing on with my baby sister, riding piggy back. I smile at the sight. Peeta showing such love for my precious sibling warms my heart.

But the warmth is not enough to keep the cold of my feet at bay.

"We'd better get out of this water soon, or we will get hypothermia, wool or no wool!" I call out to nobody in particular.

"Look! Up ahead!" Rory points just beyond us. Silhouetted by the moon is a fallen log, lying right across the riverbed. Mother sees it, too.

"Let's set up camp by that log, and then we'll cross over in the morning!" she orders. As soon as we are close enough, we all leap out of the water and begin to set up camp. Peeta and Gale go off in search of bramble to make a small fire. Prim, Mother and Rory begin to empty the packs. Haymitch sits on the edge of the fallen log and pulls out a flask. I keep watch, my bow at the ready.

Pretty soon, the boys come back with an armload each of firewood.

"Don't put too much on the fire," my mother warns them. "We only need enough to warm our feet, but we can't risk too much smoke and be spotted by Capitol aircraft."

I begin to wonder about that. No aircraft were seen today, but by now the district surely knows we're missing and will have sent out such precautions to search for us. I look to the trees on the river's opposite bank, and long for their cover right now, instead of having to wait until morning.

"Damn!"

I jump, having almost never heard my mother curse. "What's wrong?"

"I only packed two blankets. There won't be enough for each of us." She hands one of them to me. "You and Prim can have them."

I shake my head. "No way. You and Prim take them; I'll be keeping watch anyway…."

"Katniss can share with me when she's not on watch," Peeta offers. I look to him and he glances away. I can see his blush in the moonlight. "That is…. if you want to."

I am touched by his kindness, so I nod. "Of course. Thanks, Peeta." I ignore Gale make some kind of grunt as he lays out his bedroll.

One by one, my companions fall asleep. I stand by the log and keep watch for the next few hours. The night is still, only broken by the occasional hooting of an owl. Out here, with only my bow and my loved ones beside me, I feel the freest I have ever been from the Capitol.

My vigil is broken in what seems like no time at all by a "Pssst! Catnip!" I turn to see Gale, ready with his bow. "I'm up. Go get some sleep."

I nod and proceed to Peeta's sleeping form. Normally, I would feel awkward sleeping with a boy in any environment, but Peeta and I have shared my bed on the Capitol train and a cave during most of our nights in the arena. Out here under the stars, it doesn't feel any different from the latter. I have to nudge my pretend lover slightly to get under the covers, and it wakes him.

"Huh….?"

"Move over. Gale's on watch now."

Peeta nods, yawning, and scoots over to make room. Without any words, he holds out his arms and I don't hesitate to go into them. Enveloped in his warmth and underneath the blanket, I feel cocooned. Safe. Secure.

I adore watching Peeta sleep. His blonde curls dip just along his forehead in a way that just begs for me to push it back. And the moonlight here especially accentuates his just-as-blonde eyelashes, full and long in a way that most girls in the district would kill for. Gazing at him, I have never seen truer beauty. Remembering his adorable charm when fashioning his walking stick, or the way he carried my sister, I dare to kiss his lips. He does not stir.

"Sweet dreams, my dandelion in the spring," I murmur – a nickname I hope to one day share with him, if I pluck up the nerve. With that, I doze off in his strong arms.