It's instinct to draw her bow and notch an arrow at the slightest sound of unexpected footsteps in the forest brush. Especially loud footsteps that could only be made by something four legged and heavy. It could be a stag, prey that could provide her household with enough meat to last for weeks. Or it could be something out to kill her. A mutt. Some terrifying beast the Malnosso thought up.

She doesn't expect to see Foo Foo. And as soon as the saber toothed moose lion skids to a stop in front of her, the guilt immediately hits. The arrow is put away and she looks around as fear hits. He lives with others. A whole number of others. It's not necessarily him out here.

"Stupid beast," she mutters fondly as she reaches into her satchel to pull out a squirrel. One carcass won't hurt her supply. And whether she'd admit it or not, Katniss had grown fond of the dumb animal. "You're going to scare away all the game."