She's looking for birds.
She can hear them singing somewhere nearby. She thinks she's been searching for a long time, but she's not sure for what. For the birds? It doesn't matter. The sun is shinning through the forest canopy and the air is fresh. Nothing can bring her down. She runs through her forest like it's a garden, giggling as she goes, like a child, and it's the happiest she's been in her whole life.
"Katniss?" the birds are singing. "What game are you playing?"
She laughs because that's funny. She's too old for games, but maybe you never grow out of those things when you have wings.
She jumps through a puddle and skips through wildflowers, bird wings just out of reach,their beating all around her, but she doesn't mind. She could play this game forever.
"Mm," and she's all smiles, but the forest is gone.
She flutters her eyelids as she adjusts to the strangeness of having been lying still while her minds been running wild. The bedroom is dark, but she can hear the soft billowing of the curtains against the hardwood floor. The quiet humming of the air ventilator and the subtle groaning of the house. It might still be nighttime, she's not sure.
She stretches out her legs and toes, jostling Peeta's leg in the process. He doesn't wake up, but he moves, used as he is to her nighttime tossing. His hand slides from the mattress to her forearm and the cold tip of his nose nestles close to her neck. She jumps slightly from the unexpected temperature and that is enough to wake a light sleeper like him.
"Okay?" he mumbles, still not entirely coherent.
"Yeah," she agrees. "Are you cold?"
"Mhmm." He's basically going back to sleep as he speaks. She pulls the sheets up from around her waist and over them both, nestling closer to share her warmth. Peeta breathes her in and holds her closer. "What time?"
"I don't know," she replies. "It's dark."
"Hm," he reaches up to rub his face. "I should get up."
"No, don't." she says, pushing back against him so her back is flat against his chest. "You have nowhere to be."
"But I'm not going to fall asleep again," he's yawning as he talks. She could roll her eyes.
"You might," she runs a finger over the knuckles of the hand he's left resting on her other wrist. "Stay."
"If that's what you want," he murmurs.
"I do." She tries to turn over so they can face each other, but she ends up bumping him with the back of her head.
"Ow," he laughs, helping her resettle on the pillow they've been sharing. "That's my nose, you know."
"Sorry," she smiles. "I just can't see anything."
"I'll get you a nightlight." She feels his fingers braid into the hair at her temple, gently brushing it back. "No nightmares?"
"None," she says. "I was happy."
"That's good," her eyes begin to adjust, and she can just make out the outline of his face and his shoulder. He runs his fingers through her hair again. "You slept like you were happy."
"Did I?" She lets herself enjoy the familiarity of his fingers in her hair. "Did you? Have a nightmare, I mean."
"Just the one, but it got confusing. Didn't make any sense." She sees him shrug. "After that it was all random."
"I'm sorry," she whispers.
"Why? Not your fault." His hand stops caressing her. Instead, he seems to get more comfortable on their pillow, ready for sleep. "It's just one of those—things," He yawns.
"Don't stop," she protests, her hand finding purchase on the front of his sleep shirt.
"Petting you? You don't look like the cat," he jokes.
"I like it when you touch my hair," she murmurs and Peeta's hand falters on her elbow.
"Yeah?" he asks, his touch becoming firmer. His fingers return to her hair.
"Mm," she sighs, her eyes closing once more. "You should do it more often."
The bed jostles, interrupting her slumber. She feels what must be Peeta shifting his weight around, but she doesn't bother opening her eyes yet. She's too warm… and everything feels… soft.
"No! You little—" is that laughter? "Katniss? Are you awake?"
"Hm?" She frowns, opening her eyes only to jump back in surprise. Peeta laughs from where he kneels above her, bathed in golden sunlight. He is trying to pull Buttercup off her head with limited success. The little hellion has managed to grasp her hair and shirt in its paws, seemingly to refusing to let her go.
"I'm sorry, I-" Peeta keeps laughing, barely containing the cat in his arms. "I can't get the damn thing off you!"
"Pest!" Katniss shrieks, yanking her shirt away from the creature's grasp. "I could still cook you!"
"I-I can't," Peeta gasps as he cackles, struggling to not topple down on top of her. "This is so stupid." He hugs Buttercup to his chest. "Let go, kitty. It's all good. I promise she won't eat you."
"Traitor," Katniss grumbles. She sits up and helps Peeta press against Buttercups paws to release her poor hair. She sighs miserably. "My hair."
"It's still pretty," Peeta's compliment is somewhat dampened by the fact that he's decided to tell it to Buttercup rather than her, as he's so preoccupied with scratching the creature's belly. "Right? You didn't mean it. No way."
"Well, I don't like this." She comments, watching Peeta smirk her way and try to kiss Buttercups whiskered cheek. "Ew!" she laughs. The cat seems to agree because it breaks free from Peeta's grasp.
"That's okay, you weren't my type anyway!" Peeta calls after the it, watching as it jumps off the bed. To her he adds, "I like 'em human."
"Noted," she shakes her head in amusement. Glancing at the open window she asks, "time?"
"Early." He stretches, cracking his shoulder. "Wow. Not bakery early, but early."
"So, hunting early?" she wags her brow. "I'm gonna go."
"You don't wanna eat anything?" he watches her climb out of bed; his messy hair extremely frizzy. "You probably have time."
"I'm meeting up with Bear, remember?" she brushes her fingers down her own hair and starts to braid it. "Can I wear your clothes?"
"If you find anything that fits," he shrugs. She can feel his eyes on her as she walks into his walk-in closet. "Oh! I think my sweats are in there!"
"Thanks!" She calls back, kicking the door closed between them.
When she's dressed, Peeta's no longer in bed. She finds him fluffing a pillow, the final step in his bed-making ritual. His eyes fall on her with a soft smile. It's been a while since she's seen him without dark circles.
"I'll come back soon." She says, coming to stand near him. "Any requests?"
"Have fun?" he looks happy as he leans closer press a kiss to her forehead. "See ya."
She smiles, "I'll bring you something nice."
It's balmy out, much too warm for her usual hunting jacket. She managed to dress herself in a ratty pair of cut-off sweats and Peeta's old wrestling t-shirt. She certainly looks disastrous, but her main concern is how her exposed calves will handle the woods. She yanks her socks as high as they will go. She'll be alright. Probably.
She finds Bear sitting on the pile of bricks that live at the Victors Village square, a canvas bag at his feet. The bricks loosened a long time ago, back when the bombs first dropped. The quaking made them jump right out of the ground, like rotten teeth.
"You ready?" Her voice seems to surprise him. Clearly, he didn't hear her coming. "Think fast."
Although taken aback, Bear has no trouble catching the jar she tosses him. He looks at it in confusion. "What's this?"
"Medicine. Lemon balm, mountain rose and some other stuff. Give him one spoonful every other day. Don't over do it and if he starts to feel better, stop," she shrugs. "It'll keep for a long time, so store it somewhere dark." She buckles her hunting bag back up. "Oh, and if he throws up bring him right to me. Doesn't matter what time it is."
He considers the jar and shakes his head, "I can't take this."
"It's no trouble," she insists. "I like kids." Without another word she turns to begin her usual walk towards the edge of the village, assuming correctly that Bear will follow her. Over her shoulder she asks, "you ever shoot a bow?"
"No, I use traps."
"You wanna learn?"
"For real?" Bear grins, catching up with her easily.
"Well, if you wanna go to the woods you might as well be useful." She looks down her nose at him. Quite the feat considering he towers over her. "You didn't think I was doing this outta charity, did you?"
"Never," Bear agrees, keeping pace with her as they breach the tree line. From the corner of her eye she can see him straighten up, raising a black eyebrow at her in question, but she ignores it. Rather, she focuses on her steps, breathing in the smell of wet dirt, and letting her forest bring her the peace and stillness it has been bringing her as of late.
The ground squelches under her feet. It doesn't matter how careful her steps are, she still gets mud on her legs. She doesn't mind getting dirty, but she doesn't like getting messy for no reason. Bear, on the other hand, dressed appropriately. He's got tough denim pants and one of those thick button-up shirts. The ones that are always a pain to wash by hand but that take ages to fray from the friction of the washboard. Gale used to wear those too. Got them from his father.
They walk for a while, maybe a couple of miles. She wants to take him somewhere she knows she'll have an easier time with a beginner. Mating grounds usually do the trick. They're even having great weather, just the thing for this type of trip. Not too hot or too humid and a good amount of sun. It'll make everything easier.
The woods themselves are awake with all matters of wildlife, if you know what to listen for. Squirrels watch them pass by, frozen, scuttling away once the coast is clear. The morning birds songs interrupt the subtle crunch of her feet. A near constant rustling disturbs the underbrush, and in the distance, the call of a turkey.
"So… you've been doing this a long time?" Bear tentatively breaks the silence. She glances at him, surprised. For such a big man he seems unexpectedly intimidated by her. "Just wonderin'"
"Uh yeah," Katniss raises her eyebrows and looks away. Glancing out of the corner of her eye she adds. "Most my life."
"Damn," Bear nods, running a hand through his loose black hair. "I didn't start till after the rebellion. Couldn't risk it."
"Probably the smart thing to do." The turkey cries get louder. She nocks an arrow, keeping an eye out in case something crosses their path. "How old are you anyways?"
"I'm twenty-two," he replies, his steps becoming more guarded as he follows her lead. "Is there something out here?"
"Everything's out here," she replies, walking up to a nearby hollow tree and pulling out one of her spare bows. All the while, she maintains her arrow at the ready. She passes the extra bow to him. "This is turkey territory, and I want to catch one."
He considers the weapon in his hands. "Is this anything like shooting a rifle?"
"Nah," she shrugs, watching him get familiar with the old bow. "The aiming part? Maybe, but everything else is different. I think it's easier than a rifle."
"But you've been doing this a while," He reminds her, accepting her arrow when she passes it to him. "Do I just shoot?"
"Sure, let's see what you can do." She crosses her arms and takes a step back. Bear fumbles with the bow and arrow, glancing her way once as he does. She nods expectantly, watching as he pulls the arrow back and gets ready to shoot.
He squints while he aims, tossing his head to the side to get his mid-length hair out of the way. It's oddly short for a non-merchant. Probably too short to braid or tie back. With a thrum the arrow flies free, interrupting her thoughts. It spins as it goes, embedding itself into a nearby bush and disappearing completely between its foliage.
She stares at the spot the arrow escaped to for a moment, letting the silence sit on purpose. She turns back to him with an amused turn to her brow. "Were you aiming at all?"
"Um," he starts to speak but ends up laughing, breaking whatever awkwardness that has been sitting between them. "I'll need practice, huh?"
"Clearly," she agrees, going off to get her arrow. Over her shoulder she adds. "How about we set some traps and go looking for something I can shoot. Then we double back?"
"Sounds good." He agrees with a semi-embarrassed smile. "Lead the way, boss."
By the time they finish hunting she's heard Bear's entire life story. He's friendly and not easily deterred, especially not by sullen Seam women. Apparently, his wife, Cheyenne, could give Katniss's scowl a run for its money. From their brief hunt, Katniss has learned that Bear and Cheyenne have been married since the moment they were legally permitted. Oaken, their first born, has just turned four and loves hovercrafts. He was born in District Thirteen and has a little sibling on the way.
"I was deployed to District Seven." Bear tells her during their walk back to the Village. "And I thought we had a lot of trees."
"You were a soldier." Katniss states. "What was it like?"
"Well, they cut all my hair off for one." He says matter-of-factly. "I was lucky, didn't have to see much action. The locals sure know how to put up a fight, didn't leave much for us to do."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah," He nods, looking ahead. "This might sound stupid, but it got to a point where it didn't matter if they were wearing the white uniforms or not. It was just… so many people died." He shakes his head. "It didn't seem worth it, not for them or us. Good thing the fighting stopped when it did."
Katniss nods, looking away. She gets it. "I know what you mean."
Bear offers her an expression just short of a smile. He sighs, his melancholy fading as he raises his left arm to show off the turkey in his grip.
"Thanks again, the missus is gonna love it." Playfulness returns to his face. "She won't believe it, but she'll still eat it."
"I'm glad," Katniss smirks. "Maybe you'll even catch one next time."
"Hey!" he says good-naturedly, "Watch it!"
She hears laughter around the bend and is pleasantly surprised to find the group on the porch of their—er, Peeta's house.
"Katniss!" Peeta greets her with a lazy grin stretched across his face. "How was it?"
"It was fine. Bear's a good partner." she adjusts the strap of her bag on her shoulder. Peeta nods her way, sprawled out comfortably on the porch swing. It looks like he's been having a good day. She turns towards his guests. "Not working treating you all good?"
"Never better," agrees Thom from Peeta's other side. "Right, Dells?"
Delly's face reddens slightly but she nods along, sitting up on the dining chair they must have brought out just for her. "I wouldn't mind some entertainment, though."
"Oh yeah?" Thom smirks. "I think I could do something about that."
"Hm?" Katniss asks absentmindedly, having climbed the stairs so she can touch Peeta's arm in passing, moving on to drop her hunting bag on the other side of the opened front door. "Like what? Liquor? We don't drink much."
"Thats right." Peeta agrees.
"No, not drinking!" Thom leans forward bracing himself on his knees, a wide grin splitting his face. "Any of you ever ride a horse?"
"Um," Delly looks pale, gripping the beast desperately by the neck as it bucks from underneath her. "Thom?"
"It's all right! It's all right!" Thom waves his free arm around uselessly while he guides the horse by the reins with the other. "Hold on now!"
"This was a terrible idea," Katniss mumbles dryly. She stands with her arms crossed a safe distance away, watching apathetically as Thom barely moves across the green. They're standing in the middle of the expansive field that surrounds the Victors Village houses, nothing but green grass for as far at the eye can see. If she were to turn around, she'd see the back of someone's house to her left, and the downward slope of the Village hill to her right, the old mines at the base of that hill.
Thom is doing a terrible job of calming Delly and keeping his damn horse from antagonizing her. The brown mare huffs and shouts, clearly at its wits end with the two of them. Thom, unsure of what to do, takes cautious steps as he tugs the creature along. The horse, less than elated about its fearful rider, snorts, shaking its neck to dislodge Delly's tightening embrace.
"Hey Dells!" Peeta cups his hands around his mouth to shout. "Let go!"
"A-ah! Screw you Peeta!" Comes Delly's shaky reply.
"Lovely," Peeta says at his normal volume. Glancing at Katniss, he adds, "How much do you wanna bet that she'll fall?"
"Like you'd do any better," she rolls her eyes.
"Can you?" He challenges with a curious tilt to his chin.
Katniss turns to him, her eyebrow raised. "Of course."
"Confident enough to put your money where your mouth is?" He takes a step closer, smirking as he looks down at her. He has crossed his arms, all business. "Say you last for… five minutes—"
"Ten," she interrupts, tilting her chin up to make herself as tall as she can.
"Fine. Ten," Peeta nods concededly. "Ten minutes on. Sitting up, no screeching, and I'll give you…" he trails off with a playful twinkle in his eye. "What do you want?"
She bites the inside of her cheek and stares back into his eyes while she considers. "I want your corduroy jacket."
Peeta's brows draw together with confusion. "The weird orange-y one?"
"Yeah."
"Whatever," he leans back from her, his face becoming serious again. "If you lose, I want a song. Any song. Anywhere. My request."
"Fine. Shake?" She offers her hand.
"Shake it." He puts his hand in hers and shakes once, squeezing firmly. "Pleasure doing business, Everdeen."
"I'm going to eat you alive." She replies with a serene face. He snorts. "Laugh all you want. Won't change a thing."
"Cocky," he mocks as she walks away from him. If she has an extra swing in her step, it is because she likes a good challenge, not because she knows he's watching.
"Hey! Thom!" She shouts, squinting against the late morning sun. She kicks up a jog to catch up with the guy. "Let me give it a shot."
"You sure?" Thom grimaces back at her, yanking the reins in his direction. "You're awful tiny."
She frowns, offended. "What's that gotta do with anything?"
"Come on, just look at Cartwright. No offence, but she's barely hanging on." He turns to the red-faced blonde. "And she's way bigger than you."
"What?" Delly screeches, almost falling off.
"I didn't mean—!"
"Ugh! Come on, Delly." Katniss gives Thom her back and offers her the other girl her open arms. "I'll help you; men are useless anyway."
"I can do it!" Thom insists, stepping into her path. "Come on, Cartwright."
"Okay," Delly mumbles, unsure. She let's go of the horse's neck snatching Thom's hands as fast as she can. The horse, probably sensing the nearness of freedom, shakes its neck once more, kicking its back legs.
"Ah!" Delly screams, losing her grip and toppling backwards into the tall grass bellow. Free at last, the mare gallops away, not a moment wasted.
"Delly!" Thom shouts, rushing her.
Katniss drops to the ground next to the other girl, "are you alright?"
"Just humiliated," Delly grimaces, nodding in acceptance of Thom's panicked hovering.
"Delly!" Peeta echoes, although without the same amount of urgency as the other man. He jogs up to them at a slower pace due to his leg. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine! I'm fine. Ouch," Delly complains, trying to stand with Thom and Katniss's aid and finding herself unable to place too much weight on her right leg. "I'm okay guys! Honest!" She smiles gratefully to Thom when he holds her close so he can help bear her weight.
Katniss stands to the side, automatically placing a palm to Peeta's front so he'll quit crowding the other two. "You don't look like you've broken anything." She notices.
"I haven't! I'm fine." Delly insists. "I think I just landed on the leg funny."
"You don't look fine," Peeta points out, getting past Katniss. "Can you bend the knee?"
"I can bend the knee," she replies with slight exasperation. "Don't touch me!"
Peeta, already bent over and poking at her knee, pushes her hands away when she tries to smack him.
"I think I know a little about how knees work, clutz!" He accuses.
"Get off! Weirdo!" She tries to kick him but grimaces. "Ow!"
"Aha! Your knee is screwed up! I knew it!" He gloats but then drops it just as quickly. "You should probably sit down."
"I'm fine!"
"Sit down!"
"Alright!" She nudges Thom with her elbow, pointing towards a nearby rock with her chin. "I'll sit!"
"After a goddamn hissy fit," Peeta mumbles as he follows.
"Whatcha say?"
"I didn't say anything!" He refutes. "Katniss is gonna ride the horse is all."
"Mhmm." Delly sounds unconvinced, although she smiles thankfully when Thom helps her sit, Peeta hovering. "Well? Aren't you gonna help her?"
"Sorry, just making sure you didn't break something." He says with highly childish exasperation. Taking Katniss by the wrist he turns back in the direction they came from. "Come on, I want that song."
"A nice new jacket." She replies dreamily. "Don't you think it'll match my boots?"
"Who knows? You won't be wearing it." He smirks confidently. "That's my ugly jacket."
"We'll see," she turns away from him to stare down the horse. The creature ignores them both, favouring sticking it's nose into the grass over further human interaction. Katniss stares at it's naked back, trying to figure out how she's going to scramble on top of it.
"You need a boost?" Peeta bends over just to whisper in her ear mockingly. "Can't do it on your own, huh?"
Katniss looks at him challengingly, but Peeta does not react. He's too used to her; his smile merely widens. "Are you offering?"
"I mean I could…" he hedges.
"Help me get on this horse," she commands.
"Fine." He groans, jumping right into action regardless. He laces his fingers together and bends down, letting her step into his hands so he can push her up.
"I got it! I—whoa!" Katniss yelps, gripping the creature's mane and squeezing her thighs as hard as she can to stay in place. She has never ridden an animal before, so everything is new and strange. To feel something breathing and sweating beneath her, something that could kick her right off or take off, quick as the wind, is exhilarating.
"Woohoo! Go Katniss!" Delly shouts from her rock, grinning from ear to ear as she claps for her.
"Take the reins! Take the reins!" Thom shouts too, looking flustered.
Katniss struggles to catch the reins. They've flipped over the animal's head and hang suspended over the grass, away from her. Katniss beds over, holding her body over the mare's neck in a futile attempt to reach them, her heart beating faster as she struggles. It's only a matter of time until the horse feels her agitation and does something about it.
True to her instincts, the horse begins to shake its neck, neighing loudly in complaint. Katniss squeezes her legs tighter, burying her heels in the horses' sides. She throws herself as far down the creature's neck as she can, her fingers just missing the reins. All the while the horse gets more and more aggravated, whipping its head just enough for her to grip the leather with her left hand.
"Be gentle with her!" Thom shouts. "If you're too rough she'll just kick you off!"
Katniss sits up pulling the reins with her and holding them tight with both hands. She tries to take heed of Thom's advice but has no idea where to start.
She lets up a little with her feet, keeping her things as tightly locked as she can. That seems to help a little, for the mare quits huffing so much. She tugs experimentally at the reins but nothing happens, Katniss looks around for some inspiration, but everyone is just staring at her expectantly.
With one hand she brushes gently along the horse's mane, murmuring reassuringly as she does. She figures, if she were a horse, she'd be pretty annoyed at having someone on her back too. The least she can do is be kind about it. She brings herself closer to the mare's ear, calming herself and by extension her horse as she does.
"Okay, come on girl." Katniss tries nudging the horse gently with her feet, willing it to go forward. "Let's walk for a bit."
To her surprise it works. The horse starts to trot forward, occasionally making annoyed sounds and tugging her in the opposite direction of where Katniss wants to go, but that's still more than she'd been expecting. She laughs incredulously, looking over her shoulder at her tiny audience.
"I'm timing you," Peeta says, his eyes on the small practical watch he always wears. Can't admit defeat now, can we? "Don't go around bragging yet."
"Eat it, Mellark." Katniss grins, sitting up tall. "I can ride this horse all damn day."
"Yeah, yeah." He dismisses dryly. "We'll see how long that lasts."
She holds her head high, grinning from ear to ear as the wind blows past, tossing her braid off her shoulder and tugging the ragged shorter pieces out from the top. Peeta raises a brow back at her as he watches her ride across the field, green grass swaying around him and creating music all its own. It's beautiful. A perfect moment she knows should make her happy, and it does, to an extent. Deliciously happy. It's only that deep in her gut there's this feeling, a pulling awful feeling that causes her heart to drop and her smile to waver. A feeling a lot like guilt.