13

Katlanna paces. Peeta hasn't been home in a while. She's worried that she scared him away. She's worried that he's hurt and can't get home.

The white roses on the dining room table have withered. Katlanna takes a timeout from her pacing, and replaces the old with new.

At long last, Katlanna can't take it anymore. Something must've happened out there, or Peeta would be home. He won't come to her, so she must go to him. She rummages through her armory.

She takes up a crossbow, and a quiver of poisoned bolts, and runs into the woods. She'll find Peeta, no matter what it takes.

Farther away, the forest gets darker. And the mountains revolve into deep valleys.

Far beneath many tall trees, there's a caravan. And there's a four-wheeler. And there are many cans of fuel stacked atop one another. A bad man lives here...and there are more where he comes from.

Behind the trailer, the owner hangs up a dead rabbit by its feet. He sprays an aged hormone all over it, to make it more appealing to his partner in crime.

Nearby, on an ax sitting in an old tree stump, a jabberjay lands on its handle. He waits for the trailer owner to notice him. He doesn't. He impersonates his ex-wife, and calls him.

He draws his pistol, and aims at the jabberjay. He sighs, and holsters his weapon when he realizes it's not who he thought.

"PLEASE don't do that! I swear my ex-wife is the worst thing that's ever happened to me!"

"PLEASE don't do that," the jabberjay recites. "I swear my ex wife is the worst thing that's happened to me!"

The homeowner draws his weapon again, and aims it at the jabberjay. "Repeat that to anyone, and I swear the next time we meet, you'll be a cloud of scattered feathers on the wrong end of one of my guns!"

"I'm sorry," the jabberjay mimics Annie Cresta. "I'm not trying to hurt anyone."

"It's what you were bred for, sunny," the homeowner holsters his pistol. "Now where's my target?"

The jabberjay mimics Johanna Mason, as she's complaining about the poor accommodations of where witness protection is hiding her. At last, the homeowner thanks him, and rewards him with a pan full of bird feed.

Later, he goes out on his four-wheeler. He stops, and dismounts.

He's brought a crate. He takes it out of the luggage rack, and sets it on the ground. He plugs several electrical chords into its side. The plugs the other ends into a handheld tablet, and punches several commands into the tablet.

Inside the crate, the commands are translated into foreign signals; a combination of lights, smells, textures, and chemical interactions. With that, the crate pops open on its own.

The trailer owner watches in anticipation. A copperhead mutt crawls out of the crate, and slithers in the direction he's been commanded to.

"Return victorious, little guy," the trailer owner says, watching him go. "For the sake of my money, if not for me."

Soon, the copperhead is on the edge of witness protection territory. He finds something to take cover beneath, and waits. Soon he'll make his offensive. As soon as he's got a clear path, and a clean shot, he'll take both, in that order.

Dawn rises over Appalachia. The birds start singing. The mockingjays start mimicking. It's a new day.

Katlanna is Katniss again. She's alone in the forest, with her hand, and a mouse, caught in Katniss's trap.

It seems Katlanna likes to chase mice as much as Buttercup does. But of course, Katniss doesn't know this, and has no memory of how she got outside, why she's nude, or how her hand got caught in one of her own traps.

Katniss looks around. Buttercup sits nearby, admiring her misfortune. Katniss retaliates by trying to throw the trap at him. But she hurts her hand, fatigues, whines, and cries.

Buttercup purrs, and bathes himself. He always loves it, it seems, when Katniss needs a wambulance.

"WHY," Katniss shouts, "CAN'T YOU JUST BECOME EXTINCT?! THIS TRAP IS SUPPOSED TO TRANSCEND YOU-AND PRIM!"