She's dressed much like she would be for a cold autumn day back home in District 12. Her father's brown leather jacket covers her wings and the grey cowl she wears over it adds extra warmth. Her quiver and bow hang across her back as she jogs the rest of the way from her house to the meeting point. It's a good adrenaline boost this early in the morning, and a good boost to get her body warm. For a moment, she can almost pretend that the past three years of her life never happened. That she's back in District 12, hurrying to meet Gale by the spot in the woods where they'd hide their weapons.

It's a nice dream. A rare dream. A flight of fancy she doesn't let herself engage in too often. She and Gale will never be those people again. She might not even ever return to District 12. It's stupid, pointless to dream. To wish or to hope.

By the time she reaches Natasha, her cheeks are red with exertion. Despite the grim thoughts in her mind, she forces a slight smile of greeting on her face. "Did you bring something to hunt with?"