stillplaying | 2nd Game [action + voice]

[The rain has finally stopped. It comes as such a relief to Katniss, that she slips out of the treehouse village with her bow and arrows and hunting bag so very early in the morning - earlier than she's been awake in days.

It's been a whole day of exploring the woods. Gathering edible plants and resetting snares that were damaged by the storm. And just wandering. Wandering amongst the trees, sometimes climbing up one to get a better look of the area. Here, by the edge of the lake, she feels far enough from the town that she might actually be safe.

Safer, at least, than in those past few days. Maybe she spent too much time in the treehouse after that gathering. Too much time alone with memories and thoughts that made her heartsick. Nightmares that here, something will happen to Rue, something she won't be able to stop - just like she couldn't stop that District 1 boy from spearing her in arena. Lost days that she tried to hide so she wouldn't worry Rue.

But today? Today she almost feels like herself. Especially after a whole morning's and afternoon's worth of hunting and gathering. If you've been in the forest near the western lake today, there's a chance you might have run into her.

Maybe she hasn't been as successful as she's been in the past, but her bag still speaks of some results. A wild turkey she shot early afternoon, herbs and roots gathered not too far from the lake, and a couple of small squirrels from her snares. They weigh her down and she considers returning to the treehouses, but she doesn't want to leave the sanctuary of the forest. Not yet.

A flash of yellow catches her eye and she turns, arrow notched in it's string. And then it meows, indignant, and her arrow flies to land in the dirt right next to the beast.

She stares. And scowls.

A while later, she's back in her treehouse room and glaring at the stupid creature that followed her home. Of everyone to find here from District 12, of course it has to be Buttercup.

She reaches for the journal to ask a question.]

Has anyone else here found a pet from home?

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[It's something she figured out already but to hear it confirmed... it is defeating. She wants to curl back in her bed again, suffer from another lost day.

She's in another game. That much is so very, very clear.]

Not ever.

Not yet. [Because that distinction had to be made.]

We're in a Game.

[Doesn't he see that? And as long as there are Gamemakers, people controlling their lives in whatever way they chose, there's not going to be a choice. There will be the illusion of one, but she knows better. She knows it won't be real.

You never really leave the Game.]

And some of us, sweetheart, are brilliant cheaters. Fear not.

I'm not afraid.

[Because she's one of them, isn't she? Even if she never meant to be. She is the Mockingjay, after all.]

Attagirl, Catni--iss. 'Sokay to be scared. Best be scared once in a while than to be afraid.

[Oh how she knows to be scared. To have that sinking pit form in your stomach and watch your world spin out of control, incapable of doing anything. The fright turning into overwhelming dispair. Losing herself to it and never wanting to surface.

And then those times where she had to choke down that same feeling. Had to fight through it. For Peeta. For Rue, for Prim, for all those in the Districts. She could do that, too. When the moment called for it.

But all that shows now is a faint recollection in her eyes as she murmurs,]

I'm good at games.

Myself as well! I won my pirate lordship in a game. What's your favorite? What are you a hand at?

[A favorite game? She doesn't have one. How could she, after all the games she's gone through?

But she does know what she's best at. Knows that one without a doubt.]

Surviving.

................You're an odd sort of girl, aren't you, Miss Everdeen?

[Maybe. ]

It's an important. To have a hand at surviving in the games I played.

[His voice turns rather gruff.] Sounds like you've had a time of it. It won't get easier here.

You met Buffy Summers?

[She never thought it would. But she'll do anything, everything, she can to keep Rue from having to face the worse of it.]

No.

She makes things easier, here.

How?

She's lovely and merciful and helps people and takes care of folks.

[She thinks on this for a moment. It's the sort of silliness Peeta would say about her.]

Is she your beautiful lady?

My most beautiful, aye.

[Then his opinion can't be trusted. At least not when it comes to his beautiful lady.]

I don't needed anyone to take care of me.

Neither did I, actually. Very well, darling. Look after yourself! Builds character.

[Builds character? How Haymitch would laugh at that. And there's something in his words, maybe the way that he uses the word "darling," think of her wayward mentor. And not so positively, either.

She she doesn't respond with words, only with an angry look captured by the camera, much as if he were Haymitch criticizing her inability to be likable all over again.]

Yeeesh. Woman! Scary.

[Well. It is a step up from unlikable.]

I've been looking after myself since I was eleven.

That's young. Ish. Sort of. How old're you now?

[It's too young. But what other option did she have? Let her family starve while her mother lost herself to that depression?]

Eighteen.

[voice]

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