Once outside, I start to awaken. Despite the lack of sunlight, my legs are able to lead me in the right direction, becoming more alive with each of my inhalations. My lungs expand agreeably from the cold air of the night. The winter months will soon be approaching, so I should make use of the woods and the game I can catch whilst the option is available. However, this didn't spark my motivation to abandon the shield of Peeta's affection and our bed. Out here, I can occupy myself, clear my head. Out here, I will forget. Or at least try to.

Aside from the crunching of decaying leaves and twigs underfoot, the woods are eerily quiet. It's impossible to distinguish anything. Trees inches from my face are imperceptible and I stumble over their gnarled roots. I'm disruptive; a hindrance to nature. I halt abruptly in my tracks, press my back against one of the thicker tree trunks, and wait.

I am Katniss Mellark. I can hunt. I know these woods. I know what to do. I...

Movement: behind the foliage to my right. I scramble hastily to my feet, cursing myself for the amount of noise I'm creating. Steadying my breathing, I creep towards the source that caught my attention, bow and arrow at the ready.

I stand my ground and squint in the heavy gloom. Another rustle-unmistakable this time. If I waste any further time debating to myself, the animal is sure to dart away. I may not find another one today. I make my decision.

The arrow springs forward into the mass of dense plants. I hear a muffle cry and know that I haven't missed. Searching for a small entrance through the leaves, I contemplate on what I may have caught. It seemed quite large... maybe a deer? I should hunt by night more often. I can see the bulk of it in front of me, and step cautiously towards it. Gale would have been impressed with this.

No, I must stop myself from thinking about him. He's gone, and he's not coming back. He doesn't care for me anymore, and frankly... I don't care about him either.

"You call that hunting?" his voice says.

I'm having hallucinations; I'll have to pay a visit to Dr Aurelius because of this incident. Yet it sounded... so real...

"You need to work on your aim, Catnip."

I'm not imagining this. I look down. The voice... it came from my prey. My heart plummets as I realise the sickening truth.

I have shot Gale.

There's a slight sharpness to his breathing. Disregarding our recent encounter, I fall to my knees, seeking out for the arrow. It's lodged repellently in the upper part of his thigh, puncturing skin and potentially muscle. He groans as I wedge it out, regretting my decision instantly. They say removing the weapon increases blood loss. I think of Mother in District 4, and wish she could be here now. I chuck the arrow angrily, and tear material from the bottom of Gale's trouser leg. He fidgets in agitation as I tie it firmly around the wound. Now what do I do?

"Get off me, Katniss," Gale says through gritted teeth. He attempts to sit up, but I force him back down by slamming my forearm against his chest.

"Hey, I'm saving your damned life here," I retort. "Unless you would rather bleed to death." The words sound harsh on my lips but he deserves every one.

"You were the one trying to kill me in the first place," he grunts, pushing me away, although he doesn't attempt to move again.

I sit back on the balls of my feet, watching his injured leg twitch.

"I thought I told you to go home," his voice slurs. I begin to panic, reanalysing that damage I may have caused.

"I thought that was where you were going," I say, trying to neutralise the newfound alarm in my tone.

"Already here," he declares sardonically, gesturing to the woods around us with a limp wave of his hand. "I did say I'll always do it."

"Gale, that was nearly twenty years ago -"

"Besides," he interjects, "I got distracted by... by a friend of yours." Gale chuckles low, resulting into a series of raucous coughs. His breath smells stale and alcoholic.

"You're drunk," I state bitterly. Standing upright, I wipe my blood-stained fingers along my trousers, irritated that I troubled myself to help him.

Recovering from his splutters, Gale asks, "What gave it away?" his tone thick with sarcasm.

I glare at him, disgusted with his attitude and lack of responsibility. "I shouldn't have bothered to help you," I mutter, snatching up my belongings. "Good luck finding your way home."

"Katniss... wait..." moans Gale behind me.

"What?" I snap, whirling around in anger. I hate this. I hate this so much. It doesn't feel right at all. Gale doesn't get drunk and become lost in forest. I shouldn't shout at him and leave him to suffer. Yet inside of me, I sense the flaring of anger, pain and hate that I have ever felt towards him. And I can't contain it any longer.

"I can't... get up..."

"And you expect me – after what you did and said – to help you?" I ask in disbelief.

"After... after what I did?" Gale questions. "I came to find you! But there you were playing happy families."

"What did you expect, Gale?" I cry. "That I would sulk around for a bit, catch a few squirrels and drown in my sorrows with Haymitch when he bothered to show his face once in a while? I've moved on Gale! I'm not like... like..."

"Like me," finished Gale sourly.

"I didn't say that."

"You didn't have to."

We both know it's true. We went our separate ways, and only one of us came out of it okay. It would make sense for that person to have been Gale, since he was the one who moved away to a new job with his mentality in sufficient condition. That said, here he is, moping in a forest, intoxicated with drink from who knows where.

And then I realise, I do know where.

"You mean Haymitch, don't you?" I murmur. Yet, when I speak again, my voice level raises. "You went to go see Haymitch! Gale, are you an idiot?"

I wasn't aware that the man had returned. He often abandons his home, the same one in Victor's Village - not that we call it that anymore. Since the homes couldn't be awarded to champions of a game that no longer existed, they were given to those who needed shelter the most. Consequently, the name didn't seem as appropriate. Alongside the Seam, which is better off than it was, and the Merchant section where I live with my family, we now have the Small Village section. Although limited with space, a few shops of different variety were able to be built there, making the area feel welcome to everyone.

Haymitch comes and goes as he pleases, leaving his geese to their own devices. Sometimes we'll pay him a visit, which involves monitoring each other's health and Peeta and I tidying his home. He's been known to come to our home on the odd occasion, although the children are slightly sceptical of him. He doesn't stay for long.

It doesn't make sense why Gale would have the incentive to go to his home. Although, if Haymitch had been wondering around aimlessly, it wouldn't surprise me that he would have invited Gale round for 'just one drink'.

"So that was his name," Gale muses tiredly. He yawns loudly, and says, "Well, I'm going to sleep here for a bit."

"What?" I ask incredulously. "We have to get home, Gale!"

"We? I don't belong with you, remember? Besides, I assumed you came out here to get away from 'home'," he says, smug because he knows that, for the first time this dawn, he's making sense.

"Well, I've change my mind now. Come on, we're going."

"But I already said!" protests Gale. "This is my home."

"For Christ's sake!" I exclaim, striding towards Gale. "Get up now."

It's as if my motherly instincts have kicked in, and I'm trying to protect my child, this drunken man who can't fend for himself.

Gale groans morosely. "Help me up then."

Grudgingly, I grab his hand and try to haul him up. He stubbornly uses his weight to make my task near impossible. I barely lift him an inch from the ground. Gale laughs, knowing he's won.

"Damn you, Gale!" I say, throwing a stick at him, aggravated.

"Lighten up a bit, Katniss. What you need is a drink." He expresses his amusement further, pulling out a small bottle from his pocket. "Here you go."

"Gale, this isn't you!" I say, snatching the bottle from him. "You don't get drunk!"

"Then maybe you don't really know me."

"No, I know who you are. And if I'm going to be honest, I don't like what I see." I fold my arms across my chest in defiance.

Gale shrugs. "Don't look then," he mutters. As he places his hands behind his head, he chuckles again.

"In fact," I state, "You're just like Haymitch."

Gale begins to whistle an unfamiliar tune and I exhale in irritation.

"Was it fun?" I cry. The years I have spent without Gale return to mind, and with each one I remember, the more my annoyance builds. "Did you have a nice catch up? A good gossip about me? About Peeta? Did you laugh yourself to tears when you heard how we still suffer, or -"

"Listen to yourself," says Gale, mirth having left his face. "Do you think I would laugh about something like that?" He manages to raise himself to a sitting position and this time I don't try to prevent the movement. "You're right about one thing though," he says. "I did have fun. I had a better time than I did at your place. And the funniest bit is that I had to give up my job to find you, so thanks for the warm welcome."

"I didn't ask you to come. Maybe I didn't even want you to!" My throat feels hoarse from the excessive volume, but I've experienced worse pain. "My family is doing just fine. And so am I."

"Like I'm going to believe that."

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"You're not fooling anyone, Katniss!" Gale gradually regains his footing and his height intimidates me. "You go round, pretending that you're just fine. But it's pretty damn obvious that you're not. Why do you think Haymitch is hiding things from you?"

If Gale wasn't drunk, I'm sure he would have regretted that last sentence.

"What are you talking about?" I say with a voice that's low and dangerous.

"You won't be able to cope if I told you, Katniss," Gale sneers, staggering towards me.

I want to tell him that he has no right to accuse me of things, but he isn't wrong. I can't cope. I doubt I ever will, so how is another burden of bleak knowledge going to affect me anymore than the damaged state I'm already in?

I pull an arrow out from my quiver and point the tip at his neck. "You better explain yourself or so help me -"

"You're mother," Gale declares, wrenching the arrow from my grip and snapping it in half. "She's dead."