Katniss
We come up with a pretty good haul: a few rabbits, a squirrel, some fish, and half a gallon of wild strawberries. As we walk back from the woods, Gale says softly, "we could do it, you know."
"Do what?" I reply, perplexed.
"Take off, live in the woods. You and I, we could make it."
I don't know what to think. So I say the first thing that comes to mind. "They'd catch us, cut out our tongues, make us factionless. We wouldn't make it five miles. And what about our families?"
"They can come too."
I smile. "Prim in the woods?" The idea is just so ridiculous. Prim cries if she catches me skinning a rabbit, and she wept to save a mangy, ugly cat.
At least she fits in with the rest of our faction, which is more than I can say about myself.
I am not as selfless as I should be, no matter how hard I try.
"Well, maybe not," says Gale thoughtfully and almost a little sadly.
"I'm never having kids," I say. If I did, they would have to face the Reaping each year, and the endless starvation that threatens to overwhelm us all.
"I might, if I didn't live here," Gale replies, pulling off his black Dauntless jacket and slinging his game bag over his shoulder.
"But you do live here," I remind him.
"Forget it," he snaps back, annoyed.
This conversation feels wrong. Leave? How would we survive without a faction, divorced from society? We've all seen it. The factionless, who failed to complete initiation into their chosen faction, wander the streets. Dirt poor, they do all the work that nobody else wants to do. In return, they get food and clothing, but, my mother says, not enough.
And where did all this stuff about having kids come from? Gale and I are just friends. But could we be more, if I opened that door? We are from different factions, but the rules say that people of two different factions can marry after one takes the other's faction and a hassling amount of paperwork.
We do not talk all the way to the Hob, where we do most of our trading.
After picking up some bandages for my mother, who is a healer, and a bit of salt for dinner tonight, Gale and I separate.
"See you soon," I say.
"Wear something pretty," he replies, and I have to stifle a snort. In my faction, there is no 'pretty'. We must not waste time playing with our reflections, as we must always project outward and think of others before ourselves.
I try to love it.
When I get home, I deposit my game bag on the kitchen table and walk straight over to Prim, who sits on the edge of our bed.
"You look beautiful," I tell her, kneeling on the floor in front of her. "But you better tuck in that tail, Little Duck." I fix the blouse that hangs over the edge of her skirt, forming a ducktail.
"Mom laid something out for you too," Prim says, indicating the gray dress that lies on the bed.
I look over at our mother, who has buisied herself with organizing the medicine in her cabinet.
"Thank you," I say.
I am selfish, so selfish. I have still not forgiven her for something that was beyond her control- the crushing depression she had after the death of my father. Prim and I almost starved to death while she sat for days and days, just staring at the wall. That's when I began to hunt.
I bathe quickly and dress in the gray dress, pinning my hair up in the back. I smile at Prim, standing behind me in the one small mirror we have in our house. I look okay- not pretty, exactly, but at least clean, not like I just came from the woods.
The authorities would kill me if they ever found out.
They must not find out.