Past Innocence
"Katniss, this is Gale. He's going to be staying with us for a little bit today while his mother runs to the marketplace."
Peering from around her mother's legs, a little girl meets the eyes of Gale. She sees a rather short young boy with overgrown, messy dark hair and dark eyes. He looks afraid and malnourished, his eyes appearing darker as an added affect. But the girl doesn't really notice this; being from their district, this is the norm. She watches him assess her, obviously meeting her silvery gray eyes that were lively and curious.
"Come on outside. Me and my sister are playing." And she grabs his hands and leads him out the door without another word.
When she gets to where her sister and her are seated, she notices that Gale is following her at a slower pace. Impatiently she waits for him.
"See here?" she says, pointing to a jumble of sticks, cloth, leaves, and string. "We're making dolls."
At first, the new boy doesn't say anything. He merely sits and watches. Giving up, little Katniss fumbles with the cloth, wrapping it around a stick. She tries fastening the string strategically around the cloth and the two sticks that will be the doll's arms; it falls in a messy heap.
Frustrated, she crosses her arms. "My daddy can do it, but he's off at work, and he's too tired to do stuff sometimes when he gets home. At least that's what my mama says."
He still doesn't say anything, and she looks longingly at her sister's doll, perfect from when her father made it. It originally was hers, but awhile back when Prim was sick, she gave it to her. Ever since, she hadn't wanted to ask for it back. That's when it was her brilliant idea to make them today; after all, her dad made hers – why couldn't she?
"Pway wif me!" Prim cries softly, picking up her doll, perfectly worn with a stick torso and arms, a light blue cloth dress (stained with use), and a leaf face that her dad would have to replace every so often.
"I'm trying, Prim," Katniss says, her hands shaking as she again tries to tie the arms to the torso. Just then two small hands take the sticks from her. She turns to see Gale standing there, intent on moving the string easily in a loop with his hands. Mesmerized, little Katniss watches him easily tie the most practiced knot, securing the arms in place. He then takes the white cloth and with a piece of string, ties it at the hemline to emphasize the waist of the doll and keep the dress in place. He does almost the same with the stem of the leaf, securing it with a thin piece of string. He hands her the doll shyly. She takes it but keeps staring at him.
"My dad," he says quietly. "He teaches me these things. But I'm not supposed to tell." His beautiful brown eyes round out in fear. "You won't tell, will you? He says it's gonna be important someday."
"I won't tell," promises Katniss, holding out her pinky. He takes it, and they swear. "Thanks so much!"
Suddenly, as if she had an idea, she grabs two more sticks and holds them expectantly towards him. He ties them together and then she takes it back, skipping the cloth and taking instead a leaf and tying it with a string. Her hands shake as she does so, and when she finishes, the leaf hangs sideways. But she hands him her finished product anyways.
"You can be a boy," she decides, with a smile. "Play with us?"
.
.
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xx Yay for the clichés of childhood stories and pinky promises. But I had to test the waters here; I've never done one before!
Katniss seems so innocent. I wonder if she was reserved as a kid too. I'm just gonna pretend that the traumatic realization that her life kind of sucked wasn't until later.