Thanks for all those who are still reading. I know it's slow going. But after this chapter, things will pick up. I am trying to use this story to 'answer' things from the book. Hope you all enjoy!

Chapter 14

At first, I thought I made a mistake. I thought that friendship was too strong a term. It was no fault of Peeta`s. no, it was entirely my own. For weeks, I cringed and pulled away from his efforts at reaching out to me. until night fell anyway. In the dark of night was the only time I desperately wanted him there.

As winter dragged on however, a comradeship blossomed. I continued to teach him about hunting and tracking. I taught him survival skills, just in case something ever happened to me. He tried to teach me about art and baking; both difficult to do under the circumstances. Eventually, drawing utensils ran out, and there was nothing to bake with. Once that happened, he tried something else: to help me see the beauty of things. Or at least, see things in a different perspective.

Late in the winter, while we took a break from hunting in the forest, a deer casually strolled past us and stopped 30 feet or so in front of us, digging up some hidden greenery to eat. I aimed my arrow, was ready to fire, when Peeta put a hand on my shoulder.

"Wait," he said breathlessly, eyes never leaving the doe. "Tell me what you see."

"A deer." I replied, confused.

"Ok. But when you look at her, what do you think? What do you see?"

"Food. A hide to be made into something for next winter. Why?" I lowered my bow and looked at him, "What do you see?"

"Look at her. She's beautiful," he explained to me, "a large gentle eye. Soft tan fawn color. Elegant legs and neck. And one more thing." We watched as she glanced around her, then made a soft calling noise. A half grown fawn, still with fading white spots, tumbled awkwardly through the snow towards her. "You just need the right perspective Rayne."

I raised an eyebrow, then looked over at Peeta. He was lost to the world, his mind tracing the scene to his memory. For a moment, my face softened, and I wondered at him, at how he could see these things so easily. As soon as he said them, I wondered why I was not able to see them too. A clump of snow fell from a branch, sending the pair running off between the trees. Peeta snapped out of his trance and looked at me. I scowled, trying to recover, hoping he did not see my previously thawed expression. He grinned; I knew he saw.

"We don't need the meat anyway," I muttered under my breath as I turned back to home.

For months after, I thought about what he said. About needing the right perspective. I tried it out, to see things through his eyes. It was impossible for me to do it alone. Without Peeta there to tell me how things could be, everything that I saw was sorted into two categories: life or death. Deer, rabbits, squirrels meant life for me. Most carnivores were death. The water at the lake was life. The snow storm we waited out could have meant death. The forest was life. Other people were death for me. Perhaps the only thing that did not have a category were the Mockingjays.

"The Districtless had always held the Mockingbird as sacred." I told him one day. The earth was warming up, starting to melt the snow. We were stuck inside, as it was a giant mud hole outside the front door. "Our people said that at night, the stars come out and sing the world to sleep. While all the other birds slept on, the Mockingbirds learned to sing from the lullabies of the stars. They became a symbol of ambition and dreams. So when they had these hybrid offspring, Mockingjays, they were revered as well."

"Even though they were partly from the Capitol?"

"Once the Capitol gave up on the Jabberjays, they no longer could claim any rights over them. They were just another victim of the Capitol, left to fend for themselves and eventually die off. Therefore, Mockingjays belong to no one."

"Kind of like yourself?"

"I guess so." I had never thought of it that way.

"You know, Katniss has a Mockingjay pin." I gave him a curious glance, asked him to describe it, "I'm not sure, I didn't get good look at it. But it's a bird in flight, its wings attaching it to a circle. The mayor's daughter gave it to her. It was her aunt's."

"That's so strange . . ." I trailed off, lost in thought until Peeta asked me what I was thinking. "See, once The Annihilation started . . . the Districtless started using the Mockingjay as a kind of means of communication. The one you described was given as a token of affection. Or in some cases, it was given to an outsider, as proof we could trust them and go to them for help. But there were other tokens too."

"Others?"

"When we were reduced to The Final Six, each tribe made its own Mockingjay token. After each tribe broke apart, each clan got a token, to remind them of who they really were. I don't remember what the others looked like, I never saw them. Our tribe's was a Mockingjay in flight, wings spread out and upward, an arrow clutched in its claws."

"Do you have one with you?"

"No," I suddenly felt embarrassed, though I had no reason to be. "It was taken and destroyed along with all the others when we were captured. The one you said Katniss has, that's first I've heard of any remaining."

"If you want . . . I mean, if it meant that much to your people, I could . . . draw it for you. If you describe it in detail. I mean, I know it's not the same –"

I cut him off with the shaking of my head. I gave him a rueful smile. "It's okay. I've got it up here," I tapped my head, "that's the safest place it could be. I feel like, having it out in the open, where anyone could see would disrespect the memory of the Districtless."

"Maybe now you should make up your own?"

"Maybe," I nodded slowly. "Maybe one day."

I let that thought roll around for weeks. I tried to come up with something that I could use as my own mark. I kept coming up with blanks. In the end, it did not really matter. It was not something pressing and important. It could wait until I was ready.

Spring blossomed. Once the earth dried out and was warmed by the sun, Peeta and I started clearing and planting the gardens. I wanted to get them in before I went back to District 7 to trade for supplies again.

We took a break at the end of the day by the lake. Peeta stretched out his legs in the soft new grass. I sat next to him, shaping tree branches into arrows. Bits of wood shavings flew off here and there, landing at random around us. Peeta picked up a handful and blew them at me, laughing. I swatted them away from my face, trying not to get annoyed with him.

"Rayne, lighten up. You've been in a weird mood lately. Something on your mind?"

"It's time for spring trading at The Hob." I told him. "I'm just thinking about what we need. And what I have to trade with."

"Great. When are we going?"

I frowned at him. "Who's 'we'?"

"I'm coming with you this time Rayne." He insisted.

"Peeta, we've been through this. You can't be seen in the District."

"So I'll wait outside the boundary. I can forage and set traps while you're trading."

"No."

"Why?"

"It's too dangerous."

"I want to come Rayne."

"The answer is no." I snapped.

Suddenly, his face twisted in frustration. He scrambled to his feet, clearly upset, and stormed off back to the house. I sat, stunned at what just happened. Ordinarily, I would have just let him leave. Why should I have to chase after him? But I remembered that we were trying this 'friendship' thing. With a sigh, I stood with my knife and unfinished arrow, and followed him back to the house.

I caught up with him halfway there. "Peeta! Wait."

He whirled around angrily. "What?"

"Peeta, tell me what's wrong."

"Why can't I go?"

"You sound like a child." I snorted.

"Then stop treating me like one!" he shouted.

"It's too dangerous if you come. For both of us."

"Oh, so I'm going to put you in danger? I'm going to screw up like I always do? Is that what you're saying?"

"What is your problem?" I shot back.

"My problem? My problem is you."

"Me? Please do explain then," I replied, sarcasm dripping from my voice.

A heavy sigh, as he realized how ridiculous he sounded. "Ok, so not you. It's just . . . I know what I can and can't do. I can't hunt or use weapons like you. But i want to . . . to protect you."

"Protect me?" my voice softened. I loosened the grip on the pointed stick I was still holding, unaware of how tightly I was holding on.

"You've been taking care of me for almost a year. I just want to return the favour. I want to take care of you for a change. After what happened with that cougar-mutt . . ." he tried to shake the image from his mind, "And you said once that people from a District tried to kill you. But you had someone to protect you then."

I winced at the memory. Peeta realized he should not have brought up Darach, and tried to make his point quickly. "Let me protect you now." He turned his head away and added softly, "Or at least try to."

As much as I wanted to stay mad, I could not. With a sigh, I reached out, put my hand on his shoulder. "Peeta, listen. I appreciate it. I really do. But if anything did happen, it would be better if one of us is still alive. I can't . . . I can't risk your life, like I've risked all those others."

"Ok, but what if –"

"There's no point in worrying about the things that probably won't happen." I said firmly. "You want to take care of me? Take care of yourself. Because I don't know how many more faces I can stand dreaming of at night."

At this point, he knew there was no use arguing. "Fine."

"Don't be like that."

"I'm sorry. You're right."

"If it makes you feel better, every night that I go to sleep safe, I'll sing that laughing song to the Mockingjays, to carry it home to you. If I get into trouble . . . well, if you're listening, you'll know."

"When will you go?" his voice still sounded hurt.

"In a few days." I smiled, "come on. Everything will be fine. Race you to the lake?"

We bolted, matching stride for stride. I was surprised at his speed. I guess I had never noticed he was naturally athletic. But I had the advantage of years of running through the forest. I tried to shake him by weaving between tightly knit trees and leaping over fallen logs. When I looked over, he was still right next to me.

"Have you been practising?"

"Can't talk," he huffed and laughed, "Running."

Once we entered the grassy clearing, I dropped the stick and knife I still held and sprinted to the lake. He fell behind, taken aback by the sudden burst of speed. I came to a stop, balancing precariously on the edge of the water. With a breathless grin, I turned to face Peeta, who was still running at full speed to reach me.

"I won!" I called out. He still charged at me. As he got closer, I saw a mischievous grin form on his face. "Peeta?"

With a shriek, I tried to dodge him, but he tackled me. We went sailing through the air, landing in the cold water. I sputtered up from the dark, drawing in huge breaths of air as I treaded water. "That wasn't funny Peeta."

There was no reply, only a thrashing noise. I looked around. Peeta was just under the surface, desperately trying to stay above water. "Peeta!" I dove back under and pulled him up. He coughed and hacked as I dragged the two of us to the banks of the lake. He pulled himself up, then turned and gave me a helping hand. We collapsed side by side on the ground.

"What kind of stunt was that?"

"I can't swim."

I just glared. "You can't swim so you pull us into the lake?"

"I thought it was a lot shallower," he said sheepishly. "Sorry."

"No, sorry is what you'll be when I toss you back in. you better start running Peeta Mellark."

He stood to run, then turned to me. "Don't I get a head start?"

"no." i replied. As I started to stand, Peeta scooped me up and dumped me back in the water. I surfaced again, spitting out the lake water, wiping it from my eyes. Peeta still stood where he was, grinning, waiting to see my reaction.

I started laughing.