Katniss can't remember the last time October has been this cold. Already snow is falling and coating the district in a fine layer. Katniss brings her warmest gear with her to school to change into at the end of the day so she can go straight to the woods to hunt. With Gale working in the mines, he's only able to spend Sundays in the forest getting food, so Katniss is now in charge of doing the work usually done by both of them by herself for most of the week.
When she gets home she makes a meager dinner for Prim, her mother, and herself. She's been giving herself half the portion size she was eating in the summer in hopes to save more food for the coming months. Prim hasn't said anything yet, so she hopes she hasn't noticed. But Prim is smarter than that, and she knows it.
Madge hasn't brought up the Reaping thing again, and for that Katniss is glad. She doesn't want to waste time thinking about whether or not Peeta will propose to someone, and even less on who. It's, quite frankly, none of her business.
"Katniss," Prim says quietly as they slip into the bed that night. "I'm scared."
Those two words tear at Katniss' heart more than any others. She wraps her arms around her fragile sister and pulls her in close as they lay down. "Why? You don't need to be scared; I'll always be here to keep you safe." She whispers back.
Prim cuddles in closer, whether for warmth or comfort Katniss isn't sure but she'll gladly provide both.
"But what if you can't? You can't always do everything."
Katniss frowns in the darkness. "Prim, what's wrong?"
Her sister is quiet for a moment before she responds. "I keep having nightmares."
"What about?" She shifts so she can hold her sister but still look at her as she answers.
"The Reaping. I keep having nightmares that I'm going to be reaped."
Katniss is shaking her head before she can even finish speaking.
"I won't let that happen."
"You can't control the reaping." Prim whimpers, hugging her tighter.
"No, but your name will only be in the bowl twice. I can control that. You don't need to take out tesserae, so you'll be ok."
"Plenty of people get reaped without having extra slips in the bowl," her sister says back.
Katniss doesn't know what to say in response to that. They both know she isn't wrong, and yet Katniss knows that Prim will be the last person to go to the Hunger Games next year. She can't tell her- because Prim likes to worry- but she'll volunteer if she's called. She already knows it. She was ready last Reaping, and she'll be ready again next time. Her sister would never last a day in the arena, and she refuses to sit back and watch that happen. Not to Prim.
"You won't. Don't worry, Primrose. I promise you I'll keep you safe."
Prim doesn't say anything else after that.
…
The next day when they walk to school it's through the beginnings of a snow storm. Katniss peers up at the sky, blinking away snowflakes that land on her eyelashes. This is worrisome as usually they don't get snow until late November. At this rate, they'll likely have to close the school before the Victory Tour.
Katniss can't remember the last time the school closed before the Victory Tour.
She parts with Prim at the school doors, watching her sister's blonde braids swinging even with the wool hat on her head.
"Good morning."
Katniss whirls to see Madge standing behind her, ever the picture of perfect poise. Her strawberry blonde hair is in gleaming ringlets today, and her pale pink sweater has not a single wrinkle.
"Morning," Katniss replies, the usual gruffnes to her tone nowhere to be seen.
A slight smile dances across Madge's features as they head to their own lockers. "Prim looks chipper this morning."
Katniss shrugs, glancing over her shoulder. She can't find Prim in the crowd, so she turns back to the hall in front of her. "She got a little extra sleep. She hasn't been sleeping well."
Madge nods in complete understanding.
"Nightmares." It's not a question, so Katniss doesn't bother to reply.
"Well, with a sister like you, she'll be just fine." Madge gives Katniss a look that's soft and admiring, and yet sad. Katniss doesn't respond to that, either.
"Speaking of which," Madge goes on as if she wasn't having a one-sided conversation at this point, "how's Gale doing, now that he's out of Reaping age?"
Katniss glances at her friend before she responds. "He's… Not happy with the mines." Not really what Madge had been asking, but true nonetheless. "He's probably more worried for his brothers now that he can't volunteer, but it's hard to tell with Gale. And I don't ask, so…" It wasn't really something they did; Katniss asking the questions just didn't happen. Usually she sat by and let Gale do the talking. And now, with only one day of freedom, she was more than fine with letting Gale take the whole hunting trip to rant about the mines.
Madge hums as she shuts her locker. "If you ask me, I think he doesn't care as much as you do." At Katniss's shocked look, she hurries to continue. "I'm not saying he doesn't care as much about his family; I'm saying about volunteering if one of them were Reaped. Gale's a realistic man, and he knows that they are just going to have to fight for themselves. He has enough hope, I think, in their abilities that he doesn't think he would need to volunteer."
Katniss ponders this, and can't help but think her friend is on the right track. She hadn't ever thought about it like that- not when her own protectiveness of Prim went so far that it scared her sometimes.
But Katniss merely just shrugs and says, "I guess so."
Madge, noticing that Katniss has reached the extent of her morning talk, gives her friend a little wave as she starts towards her first class.
"I'll see you at lunch!"
Katniss shuts her own locker door, and trudges on to class.
…
Katniss sighs, watching her breath cloud in front of her and get carried away on a chill wind. The sky still has yet to grow darker, and she deducts she has maybe another two, three, hours left in the woods. If she can last that long in the bitter cold. The snares had been mostly barren today, to her disdain, and she had yet to shoot anything more than a half-starved squirrel. She almost hadn't shot it, wondering if it was even worth the meat or if she should let it be and hope it helped repopulate the squirrels she's been taking.
But Prim was hungry, and growing, and could use a little more meat. So she shot it anyway.
Katniss rubs her hands together and tries blowing on them: anything to keep from getting frostbite. Gloves and mittens hinder her shooting, so she has to forgo them. But she's been sitting in this tree for hours now, and she's starting to wonder if she should just put her gloves on, anyways. It's not like she's seen anything other than-
A crack sounds to her left, and she immediately has her bow drawn and pointed in that direction. Her slate eyes scan the downy ground, and snag on the fox that has just wandered into her clearing. It's sniffing at the frozen ground, completely unaware that she has an arrow pointed at it.
Katniss wonders who she'll sell it to, or if she'll keep it for their own table, as she loses the arrow.
The fox crumples without a sound.
She scurries down the tree, needing to work faster than any other predator can sniff out the fresh blood. She quickly decides to skin it there, taking out her hunting knife and getting to work. When she's finished, she cleans her hands off in the snow and wraps the fur back around to keep the blood from making a trail. She'll have to soak it in salt water overnight if she plans on cooking or drying the meat. But she'll sell the hide before she goes home, so Prim won't have to see it. For whatever reason, it's always the fur that upsets her sister.
…
"Katniss!" Prim practically cheers as she walks into her house. A smile tugs at the corners of her lips as she leans down and presses a kiss to Prim's forehead.
"Hello, Little Duck." She shucks off her hunting boots before walking further into the house. "Will you make a pot of salt water for me?" She asks.
Prim nods and hurries off to do as she asked.
Katniss notices her mother sitting in the chair by the window, in the same spot she had left her that morning before school. Any hint of a smile is wiped off her face and replaced with a scowl as she drops her game bag on the table with a little more aggression than necessary. Prim jumps and casts a glance over her shoulder, but doesn't comment.
It's not until she pulls out her kills that Katniss realizes she can't even remember the last time she's gone to the bakery to trade.
