She takes his hand, large and calloused as it is, enveloping hers fully. Katniss' have seen their own lifetime of scars and bruises, even if hers looks small and delicate enough. These are hands that have ended lives, pulled bowstrings and much more. They are not innocent in any sense of the word.

The talk back remains particularly silent, but she doesn't quite know how to break it, so she concentrates on putting one foot in front of the other. Methodical and silent, velvet and the rocks and eventually, the forest floor. A hunter's tread.