The flames began to feel inviting.
The heat had spread towards the forest, heavy and balmy in a way that reminded him of the bakery. The way he would sweat as he moved about the back of it, preparing bread. Where it was easy to forget about the presence of everyone around him, forget about the feelings everything induced within him and simply focus on something he loved to do.
Bake.
It was one of the few things that brought about any joy within him.
A contrast to whatever awaited him now.
And he took a step towards it.
"Peeta?"
It irked him, truly - how the world always seemed to pull him from it.
The final leap.
Peeta did turn to regard her, the fair-skinned Primrose Everdeen, whose blue eyes regarded him with curiosity - a question floating within them.
Strange, Peeta always thought, how she looked so different from her sister, but so alike at the same time.
There was something else in her eyes, pain, sadness and concern.
"You shouldn't..." She seemed to hesitate, "Go look now."
He knew that. If even a single bomber saw him, they might be wise enough to burn half the forest - alert to the fact that their fence - or the idea of it - did not in fact trap everyone in the District.
Peeta had depended on their ignorance when he had thought about turning to the forestry for protection. The Peacekeepers had left, withdrawing in a silent hurry, and the power had gone out.
Something had been coming, and the woodlands were their only chance.
"Okay," He muttered his response, turning back to the direction of the smoke.
What had he intended to do really?
Peeta felt a bit lost thinking about it now.
"Everyone's scared," She went on, her voice growing worried, "They think we're gonna get found and..."
Peeta wasn't sure about that. The bombers would already be converging on the forest if they even expected that people would have fled to them, and filled it with smoke and fire in seconds. They were doubtless sure that the fear of it kept people inside, and so there was no need for them to even bother, even to be sure.
Idiots.
Of course, there had been people who hadn't ventured to hide with them, not out of disbelief of what could be coming but because they outright feared what could be lurking in the woods. And it was that thought that the Capitol likely believed would spare them the effort of hunting people down within the forest, outside of the fence. A smarter government would've bombed it anyway.
He thought they were safe, even in their large numbers. They were underneath densely lined trees, and their crowns obscured the sky entirely; within tall lines of grass and bramble, where every step was a fight against the plants themselves. Peeta had even had to walk to the edge of the group just to see the dark clouds of smoke rising in the air. Even if the Hovercraft had taken a moment to scout towards them, they would have a hard time finding them.
They were safe.
But why was she bringing up such an issue with him?
"I -" It made him hesitant - worried - the way she looked at him expectantly, almost hopefully. What did she want him to do? What did she want him to say? "...Okay."
The sadness in her eyes only deepened.
Then he understood.
"We're safe," He went on, his own discomfort growing - she wanted assurances, not just for herself, but for everyone else.
Why from him?
"Thank you," She retorted quietly, and he could see she saw that he only spoke the words because it was what she wanted to hear.
They did not come from any place of confidence.
Then another boy was there next to her, with the dark hair and grey eyes that were common in the Seam, "We need to do something."
Peeta tried to recall his name. He had been amongst the people he'd pulled down part of the fence with.
Then there was another one, a man from the Seam, older and gruff, his face marred by dark spots. He worked in the mines, "Sitting out here like this isn't going to do anything for us."
"We're still too close to the District, " Thom - Peeta remembered him now - said, glancing at the older man.
Peeta agreed. Despite being as hidden as they were, he could still feel the heat of the fires and smell the evergrowing toxicity of the smoke. They would need to get further away because of the smoke if anything else. The security of being deeper within the forestry would be a bonus.
"You want us to go deeper into the forest?" The man questioned, and Thom looked to Peeta, his expression unsure.
The look made him uneasy, the question in it, the affirmation he sought from Peeta. Why would he expect him to be able to give a clear answer?
Peeta didn't know anything about the forest. He didn't know where the compact lines of grass and tree ended, he didn't know where it was safe or where it wasn't. If there was water at any point. The only reason he'd even thought to come here was because he'd watched her come here to hunt, going through the fence, bow over her back, and then she had come back safely without a hitch.
He had never actually been here himself.
"It might be better, for hiding," It was a woman this time who had been close to speak this time, again from the Seam, who looked to be years his senior, "With all this crying going about, they might hear us if they try."
"Let people grieve," The man put-in, his voice growing mild.
"I'm not saying they shouldn't," She said amicably, "It's just a concern, with how close we are."
"We aren't making it out of this," Another man put in, walking up next to her, his expression grave, "Our chances are shit."
"Oh, don't you start Beads," The woman sneered.
"What?" The one they called Beads responded in kind, "Do you have some miracle that'll get us out of this mess? How are we gonna live in the forest for the rest of our lives?"
We don't Peeta supposed it should bother him, that they were in such a hopeless situation. He should've been riddled with fear, thinking about the life he wouldn't have.
Instead, there was nothing but an annoying tug.
"Well, if you aren't ready to try to survive with us," The other man said, pointing towards the burning District, "Walk towards the fires there."
"For the record," His face contorted into a sneer, "I'm not out here surviving with you. I'm with him."
He pointed to Peeta.
"And if he says we do have a chance, then I'm willing to give it a shot," He looked to calm down, his voice becoming less aggressive, "I'm just saying...What I mean is, what are we going to do?"
And it baffled him, how they turned to him, how their eyes sought the answer from him as if he was somehow a proven survivor. Did they think this was just another day for him? That he had somehow secretly done this before, being out in the woods for extended periods? Only two people from District 12 could raise such a boast, and neither of them were here.
Primrose was though. Surely she knew something. Surely her sister had taught her something about being out in the forest?
His eyes found her form as she stood in the midst of all the taller individuals around her. She had been arraying everyone around her, but maybe feeling his gaze, she turned back to him.
Maybe she noted his question.
Maybe she saw his discomfort.
Because her eyes turned pleading, and he knew what she was asking.
He didn't want to.
It was her they owed their survival to, her they should be looking to for ideas on what they should do.
Not him.
Peeta...Didn't want to be here.
But like before, refusing her was difficult for him.
"Water," He said, after a long, awkward and drawn-out silence. Immediately wanting to leave the formed group.
"There's a lake and some rivers," Primrose put in quickly, "Katniss' -"
Peeta flinched.
" - Brought me to the lake itself when we were younger. I think I... remember where it is."
"Is it hidden enough for everyone?" His question drew their eyes to him again, "I - We can't -" He closed his eyes, drawing a breath, "We should be careful."
"It think it is, there are a lot of trees around," He heard her voice.
"You should send a group there first, just to make sure it's safe. Then everyone else can go," He opened his eyes and saw all of them a nod.
No one raised a complaint.
Hours ago, in the District, they wouldn't have trusted him at all.
"Leave markers on the path, so everyone can follow it best. So they can avoid anything dangerous."
Peeta remembered - very vaguely - the classes that spoke about the dangerous wildlife within the forest. Venomous snakes, bears and more. The lessons had barely registered to him - there were things for him that were a lot more pressing than the idea of animals for him then.
When he saw they understood, he left them without a word.
Peeta walked far behind the people.
They might have considered it some noble act from him. Maybe they even thought he was protecting their flank in case something happened - in case there truly was something like a cougar stalking the group.
It wasn't.
Peeta just wanted to be alone.
There were points where he stopped walking entirely, listened to the booms that still filled the air and just...waited.
Maybe there was a cougar nearby.
Perhaps there was something else.
When nothing happened, he continued onwards. At a time, he had lost sight of the closest person ahead of him, and it was only at that point he stopped pausing entirely. Though he couldn't bring himself to try to catch up as he followed the tracks the large group left behind.
He wondered why he was even following them at all.
Peeta looked, digging deep within himself, trying to find the motivation, searching for the desire for survival.
It was not forthcoming.
Instead, there was indifference.
It felt like he was on an aimless trudge. The destination didn't matter to him, nor did the point in which he departed. It all just felt pointless.
He reasoned it was his curiosity that kept him going.
Why did the Capitol bomb the District?
Of course, there had been growing unrest. People began to challenge the Peacekeepers in District 12 in the smallest ways initially, like breaking curfew or looking directly at their patrols. Escalating to the occasional fight between people and the Peacekeepers themselves, which usually ended in whippings in the Square. But there had never been a concentrated effort of defiance. They had never truly rebelled.
Unless they counted the salutes he had initiated during the Reaping of the Quarter Quell.
That didn't make too much sense.
The bombers had come after the feed of the Hunger Games cut.
So it was them, he realized. They had done something, and this was the punishment.
Peeta smothered the rising concern for her before it could begin to try and overwhelm him. But... it didn't want to go away, instead rising like bile, forceful and unwanted. Beginning to engulf his heart in a way that only pain ever had.
He ran.
Not on the path the people followed. He ran right, ducking underneath low-hanging branches, dodging aside more bramble and briers, raising his hand to pierce the points of high grass, his breathing beginning to cover the sound in his ears, overlapping the rustle of the greenery he passed through and the wind in his ears.
Still, he heard them.
Continuous rustling, some ways ahead of him. The sound of hoofs smacking on the earth.
Peeta didn't even know what it was. It may well be something that could end him. Still, he chased it, hopelessly, even as the sound of its running grew quieter as it escaped him. Eventually, all he heard were his own steps.
Still, he didn't stop.
He broke the line of greenery.
Then he was falling.
The water rushed upwards to meet him, and it wasn't long before he was under.
Darkness engulfed him underneath the surface of the water, and it was comforting, familiar, and for the time he spent floating within it, he only felt safe. There weren't any bombs underneath, no fires and smoke. It was a place of tranquillity and provided a form of peace the world above never could. Not as it stood for him.
Peeta wished he could've stayed in its calming embrace forever.
He would've if he wasn't abruptly pulled upwards - light filling his vision as he broke the surface.
He drew the long breath he hadn't felt like he needed a moments past.
"Just try and paddle in the direction I'm pulling you towards, okay?"
Peeta turned in the direction of the voice, already realizing it was Primrose, her braided blond her wet, loose strands sticking to her forehead.
It was then he truly realized that he was in the water.
And he couldn't swim.
Yet...No panic surfaced.
What was wrong with him?
Peeta gave her a gentle nod, and did as she said, paddling - or what felt like paddling - in the direction her small hands pulled him. The shore, he assumed, but didn't bother to look around, just focusing on her to make her saving him a little easier.
"You can stand," She said, but she didn't let go of his arm as he straightened in the water.
And he could stand, he was neck deep in the water still, but he could stand.
When she saw he gathered his bearings, she let go of him, and he realized she was standing at that point too, walking towards the shore he only now looked to.
It was muddy close to the water, but a bit further away, with more trees and less grass than where they had travelled from. There were people sitting or standing underneath them, all from District 12. Some of them were even on the shore, looking at him in wonder and curiosity. Including the gruffy-looking miner that had been with them earlier that day.
He was the first to ask, "What are you doing, Mellark?"
Peeta didn't have an answer that made sense. Or one that he wanted to give.
He shrugged.
Primrose dried her hair next, turning to regard him too, "Peeta -"
"This is it?" He interjected before she could press the issue, turning back to the water.
It was a lake, its water narrowing down to a lightly flowing river some distance down the muddy shore. On the opposite end though, was a tall almost flat line of stone that extended past even the verge of the lake.
"...Yeah," She nodded, slowly, very clearly understanding, "We took the safe route. It'll take some time before everyone gets here."
That made sense. There were a lot of people, "Okay."
Peeta had begun to move towards the treeline, intent on gathering himself away from all the watching eyes that did nothing but make him feel anxious.
He paused before he could, turning back to Primrose reluctantly, "I...Thank you, Primrose."
"Prim," She corrected, but still gave him a small smile and nodded.
"We saw a deer fall off the same way you did," The old miner put in before he could leave, "Though not into the water, but close to the shore across ours. I think it might be worth checking out. Its legs are probably broken, and we'll need something to eat soon."
There was an abrupt change in Primro - Prims expression, all the pride and joy of having just saved him visibly vacating, replaced by discomfort and sorrow.
She feels bad for it, He discerned.
So, when they brought the now dead deer, he - entirely against his desire to not get involved in all of this - made sure it was clumsily skinned where she couldn't see.