Chapter Three

The more I think about him, the more I want to see him again. My primal instincts are on fire and as I recall our encounter, the more I curse myself for not dragging the creature back to my tree as my prisoner. If I imprisoned him, I would only use him for labour and mating. Something tells me that he would be a good labourer and a worthwhile sexual partner. Even if the Delly animal did have claim over the Peeta creature, I know I could snap every bone in such a petit creature to win ownership.

I wonder if a Peeta's skin is pale everywhere, or if it gets darker the further down you go. I wonder if he grows hair in the oddest of places like I do. I wonder if he would be able to make markings of me. I wonder if he would fight back if I forced him into mating with him. All these thoughts and more soar through my brain like a wingless bird seeking asylum.

The Peeta creature confused me in many ways. He did not fight me, he did not try to evade my company, he tried to talk to me, he spoke to me like we're equals . . . no one has ever treated me like their equal but Kala . . . He doesn't know me, how does he know that we're equals? Or do humans treat everyone as their equal? Would the Peeta creature have turned to a dung beetle and asked it if it could speak?

In the trees, I ponder this. The clan are moving and I with them. I don't pause or falter as I swing, keeping one part of my brain focused on travelling and the other focused on my bemusement over the actions of the Peeta creature. I wonder whether he told the other humans of how he was saved from a pack of baboons by a wild ape who resembles them or if he claimed ownership over the escape himself.

Would he tell them of me or just forget about me? The thought is unsettling: that he could forget about me so easily while I'm trapped in a box of never ending thoughts of humans and the Peeta creature. Are all Peeta animals as disorientating as the one I encountered? Or are they a little more relatable?

Are they all as pretty?

I stop completely, swinging onto a branch and sitting there for a while. The clan move on ahead but I know where they're going so I can catch up later. Pretty? Pretty is the words for flowers, for the sun and the grass and the jungle. Pretty is not for anonymous creatures. Why did sort an abnormal thought creep into my mind? Am I tired? Disorientated? Ill?

I wet my lips and cough as hard as I can. "P-P-P-P-P"-I scrunch my face up with the effort. "P-P-P"-Damn it all! I can't do it. I can't even pronounce the animal's pathetic excuse for a species name. I am doomed, never to use my voice for anything other than ape calls.

I will never be able to communicate with an animal as intelligent as the Peeta. Because that's what the Peeta is. Much smarter than I. he can stand up on both legs and hold himself straight. He can use his voice perfectly, his lips can form words I can only dream of being able to produce. This knowledge makes me mad. I want to find him and tear him apart. I want to jump from this tree and attack him, force him to tell me the secrets of being as incredibly impeccable as he.

I don't know how long I stay on my branch, internally ranting at the world around me for stunting my development. That has to be it. I am incompetent because I was not raised in the same part of the jungle as the Peeta and the humans. I wonder if he would take me to his side of the jungle, if I asked him. If he would show me the part that I have so obviously missed, the part that teaches you the secrets of standing and speaking and wearing hides not torn.

When I come to the realization that I've been sitting longer than I probably should be, I still don't move. It's like I am frozen, caught in the winter snow. I am so high up I feel like I could be God, powered with the ability to smite anyone I wanted to. I love how entertaining the idea is so much that I humour it some more. I could dumb down the humans and their petty Peeta creatures, I could make myself higher than them, better than the apes. Strong, impossibly strong. I have to be strong, it's all I have left.

"P-P-P-P"-I clench my fists in anger and scream. My position high in the tree protects me from possible predators. I scream as loud as I can. I roar like a lion, angry and frustrated.

"Tree lady?"

I look down to the source of the voice, stupefied to see the Peeta creature staring up at me from the bottom of the tree. He looks puzzled. Tree lazy . . . That must be what he calls me . . . Well, no wonder, I haven't told him my name. My name's Katniss. It's on the tip of my tongue, struggling to get out.

"Tree lady, are you alright?" asks the Peeta.

My name's Katniss.

I jump from my branch and crouch on the ground a few yards away from the Peeta. I am still weary of him but my curiosity outweighs the worry and I wish to see more of him. If Cornelius saw me, he would not be happy. But it just so happens, Cornelius is not here. As if able to tell that I do not want to be approached, the Peeta holds his position and doesn't move closer.

"Is everything alright?"

Why do you care?

"You saved my life," says the Peeta.

My eyes widen. How did he . . . ?

"I can see it in your eyes," he explains. "You can convey a lot with your eyes. The eyes are the windows to your soul, after all."

The eyes are not the windows to the soul they are the doors, beware what you allow to enter. That's what Kala always said. I don't know if I want the Peeta snooping around in my soul. I back off a little and glare. Stop it. I do not want you in my head.

"How else am I to speak to you?" the Peeta asks.

You don't.

"That's hardly acceptable."

I roll my eyes. Welcome to the jungle. Nothing's acceptable, it sucks.

The Peeta chuckles and smiles. "I suppose you're right about that," he says. "There's literally nowhere else wilder than the jungle. How can I say things like 'acceptable' in a world where baby animals are killed for food nearly everyday."

I look away. Our customs can be shameful, I'll give him that, but I do not wish to get into the politics of the jungle. You do not care where your next meal comes from as long as you get it. Nothing is worse than starvation. Except death, maybe.

"I'm sorry, I must sound like such a spoiled brat," the Peeta apologizes.

I tilt my head. What does he mean by 'spoiled brat'?

"Sometimes I feel like you understand what I'm saying, the next it seems like you don't have a clue," says the Peeta.

My eyes fall upon the leg covers, the ones I had ripped the other day. They are fixed, not a single sign of my tear there at all. I crawl forward and squint, amazed by how well my rip had been mended. I then look at my own covers, all torn and ripped to pieces. The Peeta watches me carefully, as if I am a bomb about to explode.

"These are a different pair," he helpfully tells me. "A friend of mine is mending the other pair."

I look at him sharply. Is his friend the Delly? Or one of the other animals in his pack? The Peeta sees the fire in my eyes but doesn't back down. His smile burns into my skin, hotter than the sun. I suddenly wish I could say his name. Not even his name, maybe my own. Show him that I am just as capable as he is. That my covers may not mend and I may not have other sets but I am just like him.

Instead, I draw myself up. Bones crack in my back and legs as I straighten my posture and cock my head at the Peeta. I feel ridiculous standing the way I am but I do it anyway, showing this male that I am just like him and I will not be dominated. Because that has to be what he wants. If not to fight or kill, then the next possible outcome has to be mate. But I am not going to be dominated, especially not by another species.

"Wow," the Peeta breathes. "That's amazing."

The praise makes me twitch in surprise. The only person to have ever praised me before is Kala and on a few occasions Gale. I don't know whether I like it coming from the Peeta or not. In one way it can be viewed as condescending, on another it could be viewed as unbearably sweet. Isn't standing common for the humans, though? Why would the Peeta view it as amazing?

We are of same height. I'm staring right into his eyes, into the sky blue crystals embedded in his lids. I reach out to touch the crystal but the Peeta jerks his head away before I can. "You can't touch people there," he tells me.

Oh. Okay. Maybe that's why they're so mesmerizing. Because they aren't meant to be touched. I reluctantly retract my hand and, just to be sure, I point at the leg covers as well, the tip of my finger pointed right where I checked his gender.

Peeta nods. "Yes. Not there either."

Right. Human customs are fascinating but very confusing.

I want to see if my thoughts are right, if all the Peeta's skin is pale everywhere, if it gets darker the further down you go. If there's hair in odd places like me, if he'd be able to make markings of me. If he'd protest if I forced him to mate with me. I don't know how to find out though as if touching the leg covers is enough of a sin, then forcing the covers off to examine the skin underneath is probably even worse.

"Are you alright?" The Peeta asks, repeating the same question from earlier.

I nod, knowing that there is no possible way I could explain why I was screaming. Besides, I'm okay enough, it's not like I was yelling over anything serious. Just frustration. And frustration is one of those things that need tons of explanation. I can't begin to explain it, even if I wanted to, which I don't.

"I can't pretend that I understand who you are or why you act the way you do but I really would like to know more," The Peeta tells me. I don't know how to answer this so I just stare instead. "I just wish there was a way you could tell me more about yourself."

In a way, I guess, so do I.

"Do you live here? Is this place your home?"

I nod again and smile. Yes, the jungle's my home. I couldn't imagine living anywhere else.

The Peeta is intrigued by this. "Have you lived here all your life?" he asks.

I nod.

"Do you know anything about the world beyond the jungle?"

Beyond the jungle? What's he talking about? There isn't anything beyond the jungle. The jungle is my whole world. I must be frowning because the Peeta realizes that I don't know what he's talking about. He steps closer to me, suddenly invigorated, but holds himself back when I back away wearily. I do not want him so near. My curiosity has only been spiked once concerning this creature's anatomy and I do not wish for it to happen again.

"You don't know, do you?" he concludes. His face lights up with excitement. "I could show you, if you want. There's a great big world out there, just waiting to be explored. The jungle is only a small part of it."

I eye him suspiciously. His words sound amazing but wholly unlikely and I am hesitant to believe him. A world beyond the jungle, filled with new sites to be explored? It sounds amazing but none too daunting. I can't leave Kala behind anyway, I would never do that to her. I shake my head and the Peeta's face falls.

"Why not?" he asks me. He realizes that I cannot answer this and nods in understanding. "Okay. I know I should respect your decision." He pushes his fingers through his hair and sighs. "My expedition is going to be here for a week more. If you want, you can come and find me. We're not far from that abandoned cabin, do you know it?"

I nod. A month ago I wouldn't have known it but now I do.

The Peeta nods and smiles again. "Come find me if you change your mind. There are so many adventures out there, tree lady. You just have to take that leap to find them."

As I watch him leave, only one thing comes into my head. Something I want to tell him so desperately it almost hurts.

My name is Katniss.

A/N: Thank you everyone for your reviews!