Hello there!
Thank you reviewers.
And as always, I disclaim.
This one's a longish one.
Enjoy!
Starving
Katniss' POV
I wrapped my fingers around the jar of oil and place it safely in a dusty drawer, swiping away a potato bug milling around inside. With all of our tesserae supplies put away, gathering dust in the cabinets, I practically kicked Buttercup aside on the way to the door.
Filling my lungs with the smoky air, I ambled along the cobblestone streets. Everything looked especially grey today, I decided. For some reason, tesserae distribution day always left a bittersweet note lingering on the streets. Though the oil and grain was helpful, it somehow felt like surrendering to the Capitol. Like agreeing to play their ridiculous games. I noticed the scowl that my face had dropped into. I let the frown play on my mouth, secretly glad of the freedom.
From the edge of town, I could see a boy's silhouette dragging himself through the tear in the fence. I quickened my pace.
I remembered the time when I would force myself out of bed at the crack of dawn to get to the forest before Gale. In my mind, I saw his smirk when he caught sight of my surprised expression the day he had arrived before me. Smiling to myself, I dropped to my knees and weaseled my way through the hole. Gale was leaning against a tree, I noticed, when I righted myself and flicked a spider and some dirt off my shirt.
"Hey," I said, walking over to him.
His expression caught me off guard. His jaw was rigid and his shoulders were tensed. I could see a network of veins standing out on the muscle on his arm. I circled my way around Gale to face him. His grey eyes were solid and dark, glaring into the forest over my head.
"Hey," I said in a heavier tone. "What's up?"
He continued to scowl into the foliage looming in front of us for a second. Then his eyes slipped down to my face. For a second, I saw a flash of desperation. Like a puppy caught under the wheels of a cart. But as suddenly as it came, his eyes hardened and cooled to their previous expression.
"I figured out something today. That's all." His voice was infuriatingly calm.
"What sort of something?" I stared up at him.
"Katniss," I could tell he was going to launch into something. "Tesserae came today."
"Yes it did." I wasn't sure where he was going with this.
"Have you noticed how these supplies- they should make us happy? They don't."
"Maybe because it's like a little taste of something so sweet that you can't possibly have the whole thing. That's what makes people sad.'
He shook his head impatiently. I found myself staring at his black hair, recently cropped short. It made him look older, I decided. I wasn't sure if I liked it better long or short. I liked them both for different reasons-"Katniss, we can't afford to think like that here. You know that. We have to take what there is and be happy with it. So why is it nearly impossible with tesserae? Because it's a tool. Don't you see, Katniss?"
I shook my thoughts of his hair out of my mind. "A tool?"
"Yes," His eyes sparkled. "The Capitol's tool. They don't give us tesserae because they care about whether we starve or not." He sounded disgusted. "But it does accomplish something for them. Sure, they want us to have incentive to put our names in the Games. The tesserae insures that we will be more involved in the Games. They keep us starving so that we have this incentive, right?" I nodded. "They could so easily give us everything, Katniss. Everything." His soft voice was scarier than the harsh tone he had been using earlier. "But they want us to hurt. The Games make sure that we won't get close to many people because we're afraid of the Games tearing somebody we love to shreds. They keep us starving and desperate to pit us against each other. Don't you see? They keep us starving so that we never… never had a chance…" Gales voice had lowered to a whisper, the fierce energy somehow being zapped from him. He slumped against the tree. "…to rebel."
"Gale," The look on his face felt like a knife through my heart. "Do you… want to rebel"
"Of course I do. Things shouldn't be like this- things could be different." His voice was strangled.
I didn't know what to say. So I grabbed his arm and dragged him to the forest floor with me. He leaned his head against the thick, mossy trunk and I leaned mine against his shoulder.
We sat there in silence for what seemed to me like forever. Gale didn't move a centimetre, his eyes firmly shut, his face facing the sky veiled in branches. I stared up at the still strained line of his jaw.
He has so much anger, I realized. I felt a pang in my chest. So much more passion than I ever had, muttering about the Capitol under my breath. He was a rebel. I tried to imagine a Gale Hawthorne living an easy life, with a secure family and enough money to use as fishing bait. Nothing came to mind.
Gale's eyes flew open. For a second I thought it was because he had felt the weight of my stare. I opened my mouth the say something.
"Did you hear that?" He turned his head to look at me. I swiftly shut my mouth and shook my head.
"Sounded like a-" He was cut off by a high yelping noise.
Gale rose to his feet drawing me with him. He jerked his chin in the direction of my shoulder where my bow was slung. His bow was in his steady grip.
I yanked it off my shoulder and poised and arrow. We slowly advanced towards the direction of the yelping, trying not to snap twigs under our feet was we went.
A big hare, injured in the head, was twitching on the ground in front of me. I sunk an arrow into its eye.
Gale reached down and snatched it up, examining it.
"It's huge," I marvelled.
His smile was small but steady. It made my lips turn up in response. "Are you hungry?"
"Starving."
…
"Gale," I frowned down at my belt.
Gale was putting out the fire that we had just recently used to cook a particularly fat hare. "Yeah?"
"You know that squirrel you shot, after we got that hare?"
He looked up. I took this as a yes.
"You gave it to me to hold on my belt."
His eyes glanced down at my hand clutching to empty belt hook. "Its gone." He said frowning. "Your belt hook is broken." He stated. "That's okay, Katniss. That squirrel was scrawny. I didn't really expect on a big game turnout tonight, you know-"
"Gale," I hissed.
"What?"
I jerked my hand in towards a collection of bushes by the clearing we stood in. A flash of yellowish brown whipped out from behind it. Something brushed against my shoulder. I turned and saw that Gale had moved to stand beside me, holding a piece of hare meat. He shoved it in my hand and drew his bow from his shoulder.
I turned back to the cluster of bushes. Holding out the small slab of meat, I moved slowly towards the bushes until I stood a metre away from them. I held the meat closer.
The leaves rustled softly, to harsh to be the soft breeze. A large sort of cat creature emerged from behind the bushes. His coat gleaming yellow, and his eyes tawny and slitted, glowing slightly. The missing squirrel hung limp in his jaw. A lynx.
The hare meat slipped out of my hand and tumbled to the ground. With an exclamation, I leaped back before the lynx came too close. He dropped the mangled squirrel and gobbled up the meat in a matter of seconds.
I waited for Gale to shoot him while he was distracted. I turned around.
Gale was looking past me with a strange expression on his face. His eyebrows were creased. I was about to ask what was wrong when his mouth quirked up into a wicked smile.
"What?" I demanded.
He didn't answer, but widened his grin. His eyes flashed to mine, then back behind me.
"Gale. Shoot him." I breathed, not wanting to startle to lynx.
He was silent a second longer. "I think he likes you." He said, obviously not minding at all that the lynx was now not distracted and therefore a harder target.
I glanced behind me. The lynx was sitting where I had dropped the meat. His feline eyes were staring at me expectantly, wide and innocent. And hungry.
I started to walk towards Gale. "So what? He-" I cut off. I noticed the soft padding of footsteps behind me stop. I whirled around again to find the lynx's eyes innocently glued to me. I took an experimental step forwards, keeping my eyes on the creature. His long legs glided forward and stopped a second after I had.
Gale's laugh surprised me. It softly echoed through the trees, making the lynx jump and run back to the clump of bushes.
"Cats just can't seem to get enough of you, can they?" I looked at him. He was grinning.
I ignored his question and walked ahead of him, back to our campsite. I started to wrap up the rest of the hare meat.
"What do you mean, cats?" I focused on the wrapping.
"Buttercup can't get enough of you either. The way he followed us to Madge's?"
"I don't have the slightest idea of what you're talking about."
"Yes you do." I turned to look at him. His smirk was too much. I felt laughter rising in my throat and didn't manage to squish it in time. It escaped my mouth and was soon joined by Gale's chuckle.
We wrapped up the rest of the hare in comfortable amusement. Both of us grinning, we headed back through the woods.
I snaked through the fence first, and Gale followed right after. Both of us swinging our game at our sides, we made our way slowly back to the Seam.
It was nearly dark outside, lights illuminating houses, smoke rising from chimneys barely visible. Vendors packed their merchandise in their carts and wheeled them away, making the streets emptier.
We walked up the steps to my house. Gale handed me my share of berries and I handed him his share of meat.
A little smile played on his lips as he pocketed his shares.
"See? There's more to happiness than food." I eyed him.
"That wasn't my point earlier." He said, referring to his rant in the forest. "And how do you know I wasn't smiling because of the delicious looking cold hare meat in my pocket?"
I snorted and reached for the doorknob. "'Night, Gale."
"'Night, Catnip."
"Catnip?" I screeched. I remembered him calling me Catnip because I'd spoken my name so softly. It seemed like years ago, but it had been months.
He laughed and strolled down the steps, his grin intact. "It could have been worse." He was halfway onto the street. "Catknee." Chuckling to himself, he walked down the road without looking back.
I yanked the door open, thinking of what other variations of my name had run through his head. I found my smile only fading when I drifted off into dreamless sleep.
Thanks for reading, I hope you like it! If you don't get the Catknee part, revisit my second chapter called Catnip. It might clear up a few things.
And yes, I am indescribably angry at Suzanne Collins. Are you? I'd love to hear you vent about how disappointed you were at the end of the Mockingjay in a review!
