Ironically, Katniss didn’t sleep much the remainder of the night. She’d gotten such a large amount unintentional rest during her lapses in consciousness that she didn’t have the exhaustion necessary to shut down such a thoroughly troubled mind.

Being awake for so many darkened hours did give her practical insight into Peeta’s sleeping habits, which was useful. The Career kept her close to his body with an unwavering arm wrapped around her middle. Had she not been so tightly pressed against him, she wouldn’t have known he had slept at all. Any twitch, any movement, any sound she made throughout the night had his thumb rubbing rhythmically across her hip in instantaneous response. Although the touch was meant to be a tender gesture, protective even, it was also a very clear message.

It was less than a minute—the length of time it took for the chip in the girl’s arm to register a complete lack of pulse—but to Katniss, it felt like a year.

The cannon was so loud to her frayed nerves that she screamed before she could even hope to stop herself and the boy holding her steady looked at her with a touch of confusion. He opened his mouth—no doubt to continue his reign of snark—but was distracted at the two-hundred pounds of muscle that came charging at them through the trees. To her surprise, the blonde angled his body until he was between her and the new comer, his knife out and his posture severe.

“Afraid of the dark, little girl?” Peeta’s warm voice reached her just before his hand slipped into her’s.

Katniss couldn’t help but grin at that. She looked up at him with no small amount of mirth, “It’s impossible to be scared of the dark when you’ve seen the things I’ve seen in broad daylight.”

Katniss gaged discretely on food that felt like tree bark inside her mouth and shivered as her doting captor rubbed up and down the length of her arms with large, sympathetic hands. Her flesh there was starting to cool in the dropping temperatures of nightfall-exasperated by a state of shock so profound it felt as though it had weakened her at a fundamental level—and the career male seemed to notice as much with palatable displeasure. He grumbled something undistinguishable and pulled her even closer into his body to share his warmth.

“What can you do?” Peeta questioned her with continued authority, all business as he pushed himself off the mattress and walked towards the expansive wall of weapons.

He snatch a spiked mace off it’s hook and tossed it from hand to hand, as if to measure its balance, before swinging it in long, controlled circles. His movements gave no indication of struggle but the hard ropes of muscle twisted across his arms, straining the fabric of his Capital issued uniform. Katniss was realistically unsure if she had the strength needed to so much as lift the object an inch off the ground.

“That was the very pinnacle of foolishness…What you did out there,” Mellark intoned, a mixture of banter and foul temper ringing through his deep, controlled voice.

It had been countless silent minutes since Glimmer had made a furious exit from what Katniss knew now was the inner most corner of the large metal cornucopia; an intelligent makeshift shelter.

Katniss felt like a possum.

She had never before experienced anything like the rush of alarm and confusion that flooded her mind; the flashing of images and burning questions. Still, she didn’t dare open her eyes or so much as twitch even the smallest of her panicky muscles. The girl instead laid as limp and lifeless as the rodent her and Gale had once dubbed “the coward of the forest”. Hardly the mighty warrior Haymitch had believed he was sending into the games.

Katniss had sixty seconds to adjust to a brightness so blinding, it could have been nothing but one of the many Capital-controlled features of the arena. The forest surrounding her was as familiar as an old friend, but that light… it wasn’t natural.

Katniss dutifully held a bag of ice to the large knot forming on the side of her mentor’s head.

She was no great healer like her mother or Prim, but Effie had taken one look at the purpling wound before promptly fainting and the stubborn man hadn’t allowed a single Capital attendant anywhere near him, so she was left to the task by default. Haymitch was still scathing from the incident but Katniss could sense that it was his pride that had taken the most painful of blows, not the alcohol ravaged brain that resided between his ears.