I twist the bow in my hands, willing my body to stay alert. My shoulders pull tight towards my chest. The sun has only just awoke, its full brim now active above the horizon. I want to stand and shake out my legs, but the temperature sits so perfectly that I can barely feel it at all.
"Hey Catnip." I do feel her presence though.
"How did you hear me?" I turn around to see her. Confident in her quiet step, she's pouting.
"Not so much you, as the woods themselves." If I knew what I was listening for, I'm sure the woods could tell us everything. "Good morning."
"Good morning," she grumbles sitting next to me.
"But how'd you know it was me?"
"Who else would it be?" I laugh. When my father died I thought I'd be alone out here forever. Katniss cracks a smile.
"True, but I never hear you," she says, taking the berries from my open palm. Her fingers no longer look like the twigs that break beneath our feet.
"My dad caught me following him out here one morning. Said he could hear me the moment I slid under the fence after him. He let me catch up to him far enough into the woods for a decent tongue-lashing." The rock we sit on overlooks a valley, it's become our meeting place even though it's only just big enough for us both. I feel her legs tense against mine, we'll be sitting on top of each other before long.
"We agreed that once I could approach my father from behind without him knowing, I could learn to hunt."
"How long did it take?" Katniss relaxes. She's more protective than me and talking fathers is never easy, not even two summers later.
"Three months maybe."
"Well, where'd you learn? Could you go into the woods at all?" I start laughing and she's not amused.
"Every Saturday I'd tip-toe behind my dad, if he called me out, I had to retreat home. On Sundays he started taking me with him. I stalked alley cats and walked five steps behind everyone." Katniss makes a noise.
"You can laugh, I'm sure ma would tell you how silly I looked." Katniss is only a shell of herself inside the fence; beyond the fence, I think she could be whole.
"I'd like to see you chase after Buttercup," she smirks.
"We can practice today, what do you want to do?"
"I need to gather. I have a list of herbs to look for from my mother."
I suggest the sandstone area, there are streams on the way and patches of flowers and greens everywhere. A place I found alone, just past my father's favorite trapping grounds. After he died, I ran and when I stopped the sand was at my feet. A place that is now as much Katniss' as it is mine, a worthy trade for the bow I carry.
"We can practice our footsteps in the sand and check the snare line on our way out."
"How's that going to help? Sand is quiet."
"Trust me, it'll tell us a lot."
"I don't know how it's going to help but okay. As long as we gather." This is progress. At first we argued everything, then we realized how much we both had to offer, and now when I say trust me, I almost believe her when she says okay.
Katniss and I stow our bows and begin the more than two-hour journey. The hike is strenuous and hilly, increasing with difficulty, so we jog familiar territory before easing into a steady tempo. Summer is nearing an end and autumn brings school. We take advantage of the longer days, so often unable to travel far in the winter. Today there's no dew in the air but the heat warms my skin like a welcomed massage.
Months after my father's death, I almost started to hate the woods. It was summer then too and I spent countless days scavenging alone, until I couldn't see straight. Isolation mixed with the cruel reminder of chance, and the consequences both within and beyond the fence chipped away at the only thing I had left of my father; hope. Could we have survived without his wages from the mines? Then I met Katniss, the void replaced with vastness between trees, the blooming of wild flowers, and trails that led to stability.
By the time the sand shapes the edges of the trail, we've collected yarrow and rosebud for balms and an assortment of berries to serve as lunch. Sand overflows the pathway until we hit the wall itself. The reddish rock stands taller than any building I've ever seen, which wasn't hard being that District 12 is the only place I've ever been. The Justice Building, only a tenth of what towers about us, a few hundred feet and longer in either direction. I think the Capitol put it here, but Katniss reminds me there are other directions that don't lead to walls.
"Come feel the rock." My cheek presses against the shaded stone. Catching her breath, Katniss cannot argue and instead leans into the wall.
"Cool." The muscles in her face untwist and her smile matches mine. Her features all match mine, thick eyebrows that say too much, gray eyes, and plump lips. I lift my shirt exposing my bare skin to the rock and she laughs, turning away on her other cheek. I wonder if she's happy. I think I could be truly happy in the woods.
"Which way Catnip?" The elderberries erupt in my mouth, the sweet flavor mixing with a heart-shaped leaf that litters the trail. Wood sorrels are sour, easy to find, and plentiful in the woods. Edible as is and delicious in tea.
"Right," she points, "the dry creek bed has the most sand." I nod, following behind as she leads.
It's a rewarding cove covered by trees and shaded by a short roof that extends out from the top of the wall. Too rewarding to keep my boots on any longer.
"What are you doing? We're taking a break, not a nap." There's an urgency that directs Katniss' step.
"No break then. Take your boots off, we learn without them." She levels the emotion on her face and sits near my side.
"I like my feet very much," she says, untying her boots.
"And I like mine, they'll be fine." I dig my toes under the sand and find more relief from the increasing heat. "We're starting in the sand anyways." I walk a short length, engaging each muscle in my soles as I walk. When I turn around to Katniss, she looks doubtful.
"Ew, Gale, get your foot out of my face!" That gets her up and moving.
"Don't be rude, I have nice feet Katniss."
"Not if they're in my face."
"Come on, all we do first is walk the creek bed end to end." Banter is a mostly enjoyable byproduct of a relationship formed in the woods. When we're far enough away that the only whistles we hear are from the birds and not the mining shaft, and we're free to speak as we please.
"How is that going to help, Gale?"
"Let me explain first!" I snap back. "Okay, feel the ground with your whole foot as you walk. Try and noticed everything about your step, is it quick and short or slow and long? Do you land on your toes or middle? Find the balance between each stride." There's a balance between Katniss and I, a partnership developed somewhere between the soils we dig in and the waters that wash us clean.
"Now close your eyes."
"Then I can't see."
"But you can feel. Boots are thick, it's easy to lose touch and sight of the ground. Let your weight settle, shift forward, slow and steady will lead your way." I close my eyes, she has to know we're in this together. Katniss must close hers too because her hand finds mine in the stillness.
"Don't let go." It's barely a whisper.
"Never." I promise. Our hands clasp together fused by loss, yet united by the living. Each step building her confidence until she's walking blind by herself. We move to running, watching how our step disrupts the sand and it in what motion it spits. After a short time, Katniss masters this as well.
"Why am I teaching you again instead of hunting?" I tease.
"Gale, this is imp-"
"I'm kidding, you're a quick learner is all. Let's move to the trail."
"Thanks, Gale."
"No shoes!" I hop out of the sand bed, over to the trail. The temperature will drop soon, followed by the leaves, but now the trees are mostly full of fall foliage. Some still green, other's beginning to turn, and a few with every color hanging from its branches. What leaves have fallen will give a softer step.
"Now, we do everything we practiced in the sand, out here between the trees. Sometimes to heighten other senses we need to put one into overdrive. Just like with your bow, connect with the earth with each step. The deeper that connection, the more your focus can be elsewhere."
"Gale, your foot!" A small twig is sticking out, I pull it off as Katniss arrives squatting down. "Are you okay?" She can't hide the anguish in her face, blood and sickness are not her strong suits.
"I'm fine, Katniss. It was just the skin. I didn't even feel it."
"Let me take a look, Gale, you could have a puncture." It's not bleeding and there's no pain, but I sit down anyway.
"I thought you didn't like my feet." I wiggle my toes when she holds my limb in her hands.
"I didn't say that." Katniss' mother is a healer. She's earnestly examining my foot with hands she promises are too clumsy to heal. Prim, her little sister, receives the gift of healing. Yet her grip is tender, a skill needed for both bowstring and snare wire. Katniss can do anything because she's determined. Determined to survive, determined for Prim to make it through to the age 18 with as little slips as required. Relative safety really.
Do people in the Capitol have moments like this? Moments that hide away their troubles or if they have troubles to forget at all. Since my father died, there has been no refuge, not even the woods. Winter nearly broke me. I wish I was brave enough but it took me weeks to find a steady hand. In the bitterness of winter, I was the prey. Hunting was simply harder alone. I realize the lack of words and turn my gaze from my foot cradled in Katniss' lap to her face. Katniss became my refuge. And now my healer.
"So you like my feet?" She playfully tosses my leg to the side. "I could have pulled the stick out but that would mean stopping. Adapt to the terrain, don't let it control you."
Katniss does well barefooted but it's harder with boots too big. It's a hindrance even though she'll grow into them.
"You'll pick it up Katniss. Don't worry."
"If you say so, Gale."
"If you're quiet in those boots, think of how incredible you'll be when they fit!"
"You're right," Katniss admits. "Think we should go back?" It's hard to gauge the sun's position from beneath the landscape.
"Probably so, we still need to check the snares." Neither of us want to leave, there's so much to do in these special places away from our rock.
"All right. I'll be back, bathroom break." She drops in the sand and walks the length of the creek in her boots before wandering out to find a private spot. More than a few minutes go by and she hasn't return. After about fifteen minutes I start calling her name, traveling in the direction she went. When I spot her through the trees, she's running towards me.
"Gale!" Our eyes meet and now she's running away from me. "Follow me! This way!"
I pick up my pace, letting her direct my step. Katniss is fast, the space between us allows her to make a hard right past a grassy boulder. I follow at the same speed and immediately slow when I run into a dense wall of purple. It's a field of wild lavender, bushels saturated with color. The flower buds gently prick my ribs, having discarded my shirt earlier.
"Gale! It's lavender!" I know what lavender is, how did I miss the smell? It's as rich as its color. "Did you know?"
"I didn't, you've found a surprise for both of us!" The petals are smooth like the velvet I've only touched at the shop in the town. Without words, we play like our siblings would, running with outstretched hands, twirling in the shrubbery. We've learned not to force things even when situations are dire. We seamlessly drift from moments that are ours alone to those we share together without intent.
Lavender has many qualities, it can be used as flavoring in cooking and tea. My mother can use it in her laundry soap, providing a fresh smell for her merchant customers. The flower is known for soothing the mind and body when crushed and used on the skin. We can put it in baths even. We gather as much as our slings can carry. I even use my shirt to pack a little extra before we must go.
It takes an hour to reach the out most point of the snare line. We work silently through each set up, moving proficiently as the days nears an end. Katniss retrieves and I reset the traps. By the time we've walk the line back to our meeting place, we've come away with more meat than we can carry. To make it easier, I tie the animals together by their hind legs. We each take an equal portion before traveling back to the fence surrounding District 12.
Katniss' house can be seen from the meadow. The fence slices the field in half and looking in on the Seam from this position is cruel, yet beautiful sight that leads to misery.
"You really didn't know?" Katniss asks.
"No. Do you think I would keep that a secret?"
"Thanks for sharing it with me," she smiles and I'm reminded how sacred a Katniss Everdeen smile is. "We should go back soon. Lavender is a wonderful healing agent."
"Okay, yes. Let's plan to."
"And you promise I'll learn to be as quiet as you?"
"Trust me, you will." Her eyes narrow as if trust isn't good enough. "I promise."
"Okay. When should we meet tomorrow?"
"Best make it a later start. My mother may have errands." We settle on a time when the woods begin to howl, winds preparing to chase us home. Still neither of us move. Reality taints even the best days with what awaits us on the other side of the meadow.
"See you tomorrow, Catnip," If it's not goodbye, it's easier to separate.
"Thanks Gale." She slips easily through a dug out hole and I help push her haul to the other side. With one last smile she dashes to her backdoor.