I shifted my weight slightly, the narrow branch supporting me rustling in response. There didn't seem to be much to be wary of here, but it was always imperative to be alert; you never knew when the Gamemakers would decide your life had been a bit too boring today.

My eyes darted to my left, then my right, looking not only for predators but also for prey; I was hungry and knew that I would have to have sustenance to be at peak physical condition. When neither surfaced, I leaned back against the rough bark of the trunk, relaxing ever so slightly.

Within a few minutes, I was back on alert, my heart picking up pace as adrenaline shot through my system.

There was someone approaching rapidly to my left, someone who wasn't being at all discreet about their movements. They were literally crashing through the forest and I realized that there were at least two people, both of them not bothering to even keep their voices down.

The only people who would be bold enough to be so blatant would be people who were dangerous enough to not care if they were heard. I listened carefully, my bow strung and my fingers aching with the tension of the string, shaking with the anticipation of an imminent kill.

But there was something off about their voices, something I couldn't place. Whatever it was seemed to tell my gut that they weren't Careers, but I didn't lower my bow until they had passed and their voices had grown distant.

Now, though, I glanced back in the direction they had come, wary of whatever it was that had set their seemingly frantic pace in motion. There didn't seem to be any danger, just the rustling leaves as the breeze kicked up. The only thing that didn't send me running, too, was the fact that the animals were still active and noisy; surely they would be on the move if there was anything to fear.

Idiots, I thought to myself, wondering what had spooked the others so much. Of course, I had to admit that it was easy to get spooked when you were in an arena full of creatures and other kids engineered to kill you.

I did need to stretch my legs, though, so I hopped out of my tree and carefully picked my way through the forest, making sure not to leave a trail. The sun was getting a bit lower, signifying that it was already late afternoon. My brow furrowed in concern as I looked about at the empty forest. It had been a while since I had seen Rue; I couldn't even remember exactly why we had parted, but I knew she was fine since there had been no cannon.

Searching about, I found the forest to be relatively empty enough. This was never a sure thing, though, so I armed my bow again before whistling the signal to the mockingjays overhead.

They picked up the tune easily and I heard it spread through the forest, the funny little birds happy to have some new notes. My heart was beating wildly as I kept on high alert, waiting to hear her respond back, to let me know that she was okay.

Nothing.

I panicked a bit, telling myself that she was probably just out of range, that she had wandered a little too far or had just gotten lost. Either way, I had to find my little ally before someone else did.

I moved quickly but silently, my armed bow ready to fire at the slightest sign of danger; every so often, I would offer up my tune to the mockingjays, and every time I was disappointed when they failed to sing Rue's little melody in response. I'm not sure how long I continued like this when I finally heard something other than the sounds of nature. Someone was walking towards me, their footsteps hardly concealed.

I turned my bow in that direction, anticipation winding me tight. I was a hunter, though, so instead of shaking or responding in fear, my hands grew steady and my focus narrowed.

When the footsteps were closer and no sign of a threat had surfaced yet, I offered out hopefully, "Rue?"

Still no response. She certainly would have announced her presence by now, come running to me when she realized who it was. I sucked in a breath, prepared to let my arrow fly.

But when the person revealed themselves finally, I couldn't fire my weapon. I didn't lower it, either, because I wasn't sure what to do.

"Katniss," Peeta's voice was low and measured, his eyes searching my face and his palms up to display his lack of threatening intent.

I couldn't find my voice, so I just swallowed. What was he doing here? Was he an ally? An enemy? A trick of my addled mind?

"Katniss," he repeated, "What are you doing?"

I'm so confused that I find my words, "What do you mean?" Wasn't it obvious? I was staying alive.

"I mean, why are you out here?" His voice is still calm and that makes me angry for some reason.

Instead of answering his question, I fire back my own, "Did you see her?"

"See who?" he looks genuinely confused.

"Rue."

His expression shifts, sadness and another emotion I can't place twisting his features.

"Katniss, why don't you lower your bow so we can talk?"

These words only fuel my anger and confusion so, instead of doing what he suggested, I pull it tighter and point it directly at his heart, "No, I have to find her. Did you kill her?"

I'll kill him; I'll kill him on the spot if he's hurt her. District partner be damned.

"No. No, I didn't kill Rue." Something in his voice tells me that he is telling the truth. I lower my bow a fraction, but keep it where I can send the arrow through his chest in an instant if need be.

"We have to find her. You have to help me find her." For some reason, I feel an overwhelming desire to trust Peeta, knowing that he will help me.

"Okay, alright. But why don't you put your bow away. We don't want to accidently hurt her if she surprises us." He's taking a step closer, encouraged by my idea of teaming up.

I become suspicious, but I don't raise my bow again, "The Careers," I remind him, "They might be hunting for us."

"Trust me, we will hear them if they are near." And I do trust him. I hesitate, thinking of dangers aside from the deadly Career tributes, but put my bow away anyway. That nagging feeling that Peeta would not put me in harm's way encourages me to listen to him.

As soon as I am unarmed, I feel myself being wrapped in his embrace and his hand gently tugs the bow completely out of my grasp. I tense, completely taken by surprise by his strange actions. What was going on?

"Oh, Katniss." He whispers in an agonized voice and I realize the warm wetness on my neck where his face is pressed must be his tears.

Jerking out of his grasp, I pull an arrow from my quiver, livid with myself for allowing him to disarm me. My eyes dart to my beloved bow still grasped tightly in his hand. One glance at his face confirms that it had been his tears on my neck. There was one falling down his left cheek now.

"What is going on?!" I demand, pointing the arrow threateningly in his direction.

"Katniss, we aren't in the arena." His voice is clear and firm but still broken with sadness.

I take this bit of information with shock, my eyes searching around for any sign that he is right. Just trees. Trees and Peeta and loud, unidentified children. "What?"

"You are Katniss Everdeen-Mellark, my wife. We are the victors of the 74th annual Hunger Games, escapees of the 3rd Quarter Quell, and survivors of the successful second rebellion. We live here, in a rebuilt District 12." He hesitates here and watches me as I freeze in shock.

Is he right? Did everything he just said actually happen? My instinct tells me to trust him, but I feel the urge to run. The whirlwind of my mind keeps me from responding and yet something is surfacing from the confusion. Memories, memories of our life that would coincide with his story.

When I remain silent he continues, "Haymitch lives next door to us still and raises geese." Peeta smiles slightly, "He's still a drunk, but not nearly as unbearable as he used to be. You still like to hunt here, in your woods."

I look around and realize that he is right, this is my woods. This forest is too familiar and too beautiful to be the arena. I drop the arrow, but continue to eye him warily, the confusion making my head spin. It still wasn't clear.

He hesitates and chokes out the next words, "We have two children. Two beautiful children. You brought them out here today while I was in town."

As soon as he mentions my children, I let out a strangled cry, my hand flying to cover my mouth and prevent any more horrible sounds.

It all comes crashing back, every horrifically bad and every unbelievably pleasant memory of the past years bluntly shoving me back to reality. If I had brought the kids with me to the woods, where were they now?

I whip the quiver of arrows off my back and count them rapidly. Even though Peeta is now hastily reassuring me of their safety, I count them two, three, four times more. They are all accounted for, I hadn't accidently sent one through one of my children.

I begin to sob, uncontrollable gasps forcing the wretched cries from my throat. Realization dawns on me as I remember the panicked haste that those two unknown people that I had mistaken for fellow tributes had torn back up the pathway. How close I had come to killing them. I shiver and a fresh wave of sobs wracks my body.

Peeta just holds me, rocking me as I weep in his arms on the forest floor. Slowly, I regain my composure and begin to right myself. As I do, he carefully tells me about how the kids had run crying all the way to town, not stopping until they had reached the bakery and tearfully told Peeta about how I had run off with my armed bow in hand and left them on the trail.

My heart clenches as he tells me that their fear was not for themselves, but rather for Mommy, who had warned them countless times about the dangers of wandering around alone in the forest. I hadn't told them that one of those dangers was their own mother.

Through my current state of self-hate, I am thankful that I had warned them so many times and had advised them to run as fast as they could back up the path and home if there was even the slightest of dangers. Never had I imagined that they would have to run from me.

"How can I protect them from myself?" I ask Peeta, my heart breaking with hopelessness. I could never seem to keep my most precious loved ones from being harmed.

"They're safe." He assures me again, his voice hard as he tries to convince me.

"They're not safe, Peeta. They'll never be safe. I will never be able to keep them safe." My voice rises, the hysteria beginning to fuel my anger. "I almost killed them myself, Peeta."

He winces but stands his ground, "You could never do that, Katniss. I know you couldn't. But even if you could, I will make sure that never happens."

I look him in the eye and know that he will keep his word. He loves them just as much as I do. And that's what we do; we protect each other, even if we are the biggest threat to ourselves.

We make our way back, the sunlight fading quickly. I ache to have my bow back in my hand, but I don't dare. Who knows what might trigger me to lose my grasp on reality again? All I want to do is get home and hold my babies close to me, perhaps never to let go. I won't be fully convinced of their lack of harm until I have them in my arms myself.

"What happened, Katniss?" Peeta asks quietly as we near the edge of the trees.

I hesitate before recounting the happenings of the day for him, his hand clasped tightly in mine.

EARLIER THAT DAY

Their laughter is like music, ringing in the peaceful forest as they run ahead along the now often-traveled path. I smile, their happiness like a drug I could not get enough of.

Peeta was in town today, helping the baker with a rather complex wedding cake that had been ordered for the upcoming weekend. He didn't work there officially, having not been able to get past the painful memory of his lost family, but he enjoyed lending a hand when a big project came in. The baker was always grateful for his expertise.

The kids and I were supposed to hang out at home today and work on painting the little playhouse that Peeta had built in the backyard but when I had woken up, I had found myself in one of my best moods. Good days where I was truly joyful hardly ever came, so I had decided to take advantage and take the kids on a walk in the forest to share with them my most treasured sanctuary.

I watched with a careful eye as they skipped ahead, picking wild flowers to run back and give me, chasing unsuspecting squirrels, and poking at the bugs that crawled across the forest floor. Every so often I would shout a warning to them when they would stray a little too far off the trail, but other than that I let them have their fun.

It was a beautiful day, a day I would usually love to spend hunting. Even though I had my bow and arrows with me, they were not here for hunting, since the little monsters were forging ahead with about as much stealth as their father could manage. Instead, they were slung over my shoulder for protection, just in case one of the less-than-friendly creatures of the wild decided to make an appearance.

It was odd to feel this protective of other human beings; I had always thought that I had been overprotective before, but it was nothing compared to the fierce instincts that had arrived with my children.

I smile again as my daughter presents a brightly colored weed to me. I react with as much overjoyed enthusiasm as I had the first ten times she had given me one and add it to the little bouquet sticking out of my pocket. She smiles with pride and hurries back to where her brother is attempting to climb onto a fallen log.

"Be careful," I warn, knowing that he will need a boost to reach the top. Just as I reach them and push their little bottoms up the rest of the way, it happens.

My head whips around at the sound as I automatically prepare my bow. Rue's melody, or something very similar, was still ringing in my ears as I hurried into the trees, oblivious to the confused cries of my children.

Rue was in trouble. I had to find her. The offending Mockingjay had just fluttered onto a branch and I knew she wouldn't be far. I scale the tree to wait, knowing that I will be able to see any incoming company much better from this vantage.

So I sit and wait in the trees, not noticing the frightened cries as my children attempt to call me from the memory of that horrific arena, back to them and to my reality.