AN: Hate to stick in another AN, but I just wanted to reply to the guest reviews (trying to reply to all reviews — my way of saying thanks) and update a little on where this is going.
Guest — Thank you! I've been trying to use the best words possible to sum up the last lines, so I'm glad you liked it!

Dike — Wow, thank you! This was such a sweet review. I'll definitely keep trying to incorporate different relationships like Madge and Peeta and so on into this, I think they're all important characters in their own way and interacting with them helped define Katniss. As far as rebellion/the Games goes, I'm actually not too sure.

Quick thank you to Ellenka, whose consistent reviews have been incredibly motivating and helpful! I think I'm going to end up heading AU with this one, because Gale and Katniss' relationship is much stronger than it likely would have been the year before the Games. I have several different endings in mine, one that I've already started drawing out, so I'm actually debating whether or not I'll post mini versions of the different endings because I think they'd be fun to write. I'd also like to do maybe a series of this because I have ideas for those as well.

Either way, I'm sorry for the long AN! All of your reviews have been so helpful and I love reading them. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

By finally letting out why he's being so persistent about this, about this godforsaken valley, Gale's apparently decided he's done talking. I hesitate to let my voice fill the void, when I hardly have half as many valid reasons.

"I can't leave Prim," I say quietly at first. But, the more I speak, the more I realize why I'm opposing this. "I don't know if a year is enough. What if they can't make it without us, Gale? We've fed them for years. They wouldn't have us to take care of them."

He doesn't reply, but gives me a fleeting gaze instead.

"I could never forgive myself if my mother went back to— to wherever she was when my father died. That leaves Prim with nobody. And besides, they couldn't make it by without tesserae, because I'd never let Prim take it out."

Gale's being more stubborn than I expected. I trace my fingers into the dirt while I conjure up something to fill the void, but he must've decided he's punished me enough with his silence. "Catnip, I'm asking you to come with me because I'm not sure how much longer I can stand it. I'm telling you that we can find a way out of this place. And then we can bring them with us and we'll be out of here."

"Gale—" I want to protest, but what can I tell him?

"Catnip," he murmurs softly. "We'll be free."

"Freedom?" I ask, but it's not really a question. "That's what you want?"

He cracks a sly smile, but he shades it with his clouded eyes. "Among others."

"You want it for them?"

I can feel the tone growing a little lighter. "Don't play me off as heartless, Catnip," he answers.

"I'm not," I reply quietly.

"Don't assume it's not for you."

I look up quickly. "What?"

"You heard me."

Wordlessly, we decide we're done talking for a while. I'm half worried that I'm going to set him off, going to trigger him losing it — whatever that really is — that he's so worried about.

From there on, everything moves a little slower. Perhaps even time, in it's own dimensional way, pitied us, and let the sun tick across the sky a little slower. Gale eventually pulls himself from the ground, and holds out his hand to pull me up. I stare at him for a while, but grab his hand either way.

"Do you even know where home is?" I ask, hoping he's feeling more lighthearted.

Thankfully, when he answers, I know he is. "What do you think, Everdeen?"

I breathe out a chuckle, and follow him a ways, until he crouches to the ground and pulls up a bow for each of us.

"No snares?" I ask, as I trace my fingers across the bow. I've drawn an arrow across the string enough times to know every detail of the thing, but it's almost a required, ceremonial greeting at this time.

"Don't want to leave a too obvious trace," he replies, tossing me an arrow as we spread out. "Did you see anything out here, anyway?"

"It'd be a lie if I did," I say, turning slowly in a circle, tuning my eyes into every finite detail of the earth around us.

"Got to be something," he whispers, and I can just catch the squeal of the bow across the horsehair string. With a snap, it snaps off his fingers and slices right into the eye of a rabbit.

"Something indeed," I call with a smile as he retrieves it. The first kill is always the sweetest, no matter what hunting trip we're on. It makes every other kill a little harder, makes the animals more and more aware of the predators stalking in their woods. But, some days it's the difference between even bringing home anything at all.

I wait for him to return to my side before I draw a arrow across my own bow. My eye catches on a swallow as it flits from the branches of one tree to what I expect is the next — but I'll never know, because my arrow pierces it's eye before it reaches it's destination.

"We're going to have to head back soon," I call as I tuck the bird into our game bag. "We can't carry this whole thing back home if it gets too heavy."

"Successful hunting trip," he remarks as he stares into the practically empty bag. "Take down a few more and then we go? Might have to head out tomorrow after school."

I answer with a small smile, and crouch down for my next kill. Without a second kill, I pluck the string to let the arrow fly into a vole scuttling across the ground.

"Toss it in!" Gale pulls open the mouth of the bag and grins. I was worried he wouldn't crack another grin after what happened before, but he's certainly grinning for real as I fling the vole across the forest floor into the bag.

It's hard to decide if he's serious about what he preaches when he recovers into this jovial, silly boy when we're out here. But, the more I think about it …

"There's my last one," I hear him say across the story as he pulls up a squirrel. The definitely richer valley means that the game we're bringing in is far more healthy than what we bring in from the woods closest to us.

We're pushing our limits, out here. It's a little hard to remember, between explaining plans of running away and playing catch with a dead vole, but we're even more illegal out here than we are in the woods we normally hunt in. We're smart enough to feed the Peacekeepers with what we catch, and if it weren't for them not turning us in, we'd be dead from starvation.

But, they haven't. So far, long as we don't cause any trouble or rile up anything that brings attention to District 12, they let us hunt. What about the valley? Every time we cross under the fence, we're technically out of Panem. But, Gale and I have still seen the occasional hovercraft when we're out hunting. It's still a question whether or not the Capitol hovercrafts make it out this far, but it feels so much freer out here. In our woods, we can still see some of 12 if we're not behind the trees or the bushes. But, once we came crashing down the hill, I'm not even sure which direction 12 is in.

Gale seems lost in thought as we trudge up the hill with the game bag spread across our shoulders. I doubt he's wrapped in wondering about the legality of it all, but it has been strange for him to worry about being caught. He's always been the gutsy one about those sort of things, and all of a sudden he's suddenly questioning himself.

I leave Gale with the game for a moment while I trot off to stash our weapons. Regardless of how bold either of us were about hunting, we still made sure to hide our bows and snare supplies.

Gale pauses just before we're in sight of the fence. "Kind of funny, to think that we used to stare out there and wonder what it all was."

"And now we know," I finish for him. It goes without saying that we won't mention this to anyone, because our only other confidants would be our mothers (who worry enough as is, or Hazelle at least), or our siblings (who are too little to be trusted). We've only got each other.

Prim's got to walk home alone today, but she'll tag along with Rory and Vick as always. When we finish up our trek to my house, Prim's waiting on the steps, a cornhusk doll in each hand.

"Katniss!" she squeals, wrapping me in a quick hug, before she moves onto Gale and gives him the same.

He rubs her hair lightly before we haul in the bag. Prim stands quietly at the side while we pull apart our kills. Even if we did bring her out there, never mind any other problems with the idea, she'd never be able to kill and rip apart herself. She's squeamish enough as she watches us salt and hang the meat.

"Good day?" she asks as Gale and I wash our hands the best we can. Water's a luxury, so we're careful to use just as much as we have to, to wash off the blood and fat.

"Good enough, little duck," I answer, pulling her into my lap.

Gale stands up from the steps. "I'm— I'm going to head home, Catnip."

I push my eyebrows together as I watch his face, but he's still. He pulls me in for a hug before hugging Prim as well. "Bye," he says simply before he tracks home.

Prim's young, but she's also intuitive. "What was that about?" she asks. When she looks up at me like that, eyes sparkling, she suddenly looks wise beyond her years.

"Who knows," I answer, swinging her hand in mine as we slip back into the house. "Who knows."