Just as swiftly as summer came, it departed. The coolness from the nights lingered in the mornings, and the sun no longer seemed like such a worthy opponent. Time passed faster and faster, and I wondered if that was the new routine of my life. Would the days always blur, now that nothing wholly remarkable occurred within them? Would time start to just pass me by completely? Would that really be so bad, compared to the alternative?

The efforts to resurrect the town began in full earnest as the oppression of the summer heat died down. Peeta started the ball rolling with the bakery, and the other citizens in town picked up his efforts like a war cry. Every time I passed through town, I noticed the differences. Changes and additions, each and every day, that strived to return Twelve to what it used to be but better. Free from the reign of the Capitol.

No one talked about the fact that we'd lost our main export of coal. The mines were completely boarded up by then, and the trains heading back to the Capitol returned mostly empty handed. The addition of Thirteen back into the fold helped make up for the loss, but we felt a bit of pressure from the government to find some way of supporting ourselves, to earn the increased but still meager rations we received until better methods could be sorted out by those in power.

For precisely these reasons, the market became the project for the fall. Nothing could bring the people of Twelve together like reinstituting the market. Though it was decided without discussion that the Hob would not be rebuilt, the market in the town square would become the new unofficial, official Hob. We all knew it. Now that we didn't have to hide our small hobbies and trades from the Peacekeepers, there was no need for the sketchy market of illegal trade.

The months blended together as the market went through its rebirth. Before I knew it, stalls and shops opened up and down the streets, and there was a steady stream of people milling about throughout the day. I picked up on my old routine, spreading my money about as best as I could, trying to find things I would actually find a use for.

Rooba stopped me one day as I walked past the butcher shop.

"Everdeen," she called out, stopping me in my tracks. I hadn't looked her way and had to backtrack a few paces. I'd been en route to the bakery, and my mind have been occupied with the cheese bun I knew awaited me just down the street.

I never knew what to expect any more when people stopped me in town. Some wanted to ask about my mother. Others asked how I was holding up, with that sympathetic look in their eyes that made me want to drive a knife through their hand. A few even asked if I'd heard from Gale, as if they had surmised that my marriage to Peeta was a fraud and that they still expected me to marry my cousin. Very few had anything original to ask, so when Rooba asked her next question, I thought I'd misheard. "Do you still hunt?"

Only those from the Hob and the few in town we'd traded with knew of my extracurricular activities in the woods, though I supposed my talent with a bow in my first Games was a not so subtle hint. Granted, almost everyone in town had probably seen me disappear into the woods at least once since my return to the district, but it wasn't a question people asked, as I no longer traded my fares in town.

"When the mood strikes," I replied. My hunting bag was slung over my shoulder, but it carried goods I'd purchased throughout the day in the market instead of fresh game.

"I'd be interested in purchasing your game, or trading for it if you prefer, if you are interested."

I didn't need the money or the trade. Peeta and I had more money than we knew what to do with, and anything we would trade for in town we could easily purchase instead. But I paused before I rejected the offer outright. It was an excuse to get back into the woods, something I did less and less of with every passing week. Instead of fretting my days around in the bakery doing nothing, I could do something with my time.

I was constantly looking for what my purpose was now that I had no real goal to strive for. Perhaps this was it. It would give me something to do apart from Peeta, so that we could grow back as separate people, even if we were together. It was a topic of much discussion, brought up no less than once in each of my weekly sessions with the doctor. I needed my own identity, my own sense of self. And I already hunted and spent time in the woods.

So instead of politely turning her down as I had intended, I somewhat surprised both of us by accepting the offer. It would be a challenge to myself as well, I realized. Since my return to the woods, I'd steered away from any big game, though I'd caught sight of a few I knew I could have taken. When I looked at them I saw the eyes of victors, of friends who had died, of others I hadn't known but had killed to protect myself. Killing people hadn't been like hunting animals at all, no matter what Gale thought. But now that I had done both, it was hard to separate the two in my mind. It gave me a goal to reach, especially since we weren't entirely sure how the economy of this new Panem would hold. Should our generous stipends from the Capitol cease, we still needed to know how to fend for ourselves.

"Alright," I agreed, though the word made my stomach a bit queasy as I said it. "When do you want the first delivery?"

"As soon as you can bring it," she gave me a toothy grin of her rotted mouth. "With the market booming again, demand is higher than the supply I can get. Especially since some of our best hunters didn't come back home."

Another punch to the gut, the offhand, thinly veiled reference to Gale.

Ignoring the mention of my formed partner, I gave her a slight nod. "Alright then."

I stopped off at the house, emptied out my bag, picked up my quiver, my bow, and my jacket, and set out to work.