burnwithus | (and amateur cartography)

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gwaine

(and amateur cartography)

The invisible fence that keeps the dinosaurs from entering the rest of the island reminds her of the electrified fence that surrounded District 12. It looked entirely foreign to her, the presence of something modern and terrible in the middle of the forest. She goes no further than the posts that mark it, not stupid enough to risk her life over the appeal of exploring the wilderness.

But she hears a noise from within, more than the usual stomping of giant feet and angry roars. A human voice, faint but definite. And despite all of her mind's more sensible protests to ignore it and run while she can, she can't. Won't. Because Katniss once made a promise to herself that she wouldn't run anymore. Even if it is her first instinct, she hates herself for it.

Maybe it's her mind's subconscious way of trying to atone for all those people she's killed. Katniss would laugh if she realized this, more inclined to believe that she's doing this because her life doesn't mean much anyways.

Her feet are silent on the grass, one arrow knocked to her half-drawn bowstring. Moving through the foliage as if she were no more than a ghost.

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Eventually, this was always going to happen. Gwaine's been growing more bored by the day and his curiosity at the creatures in the vast wastelands on the other side of the island are too much like dragons and wyverns for him to stay away. He knows about such magical creatures because of his exploring and in avoiding them for as long as he has, it's almost a sort of accomplishment. Today is the day he stops staying away.

Apple in one hand, sword in the other, he wanders through the area, intending to use the fruit as bait at the first lizard he sees.

She moves through the forest swiftly, trying to calm her screaming nerves. The last time Katniss had been this riled up, she'd shot Sawyer in the shoulder with an arrow. At this point, she's trying to avoid a repeat of that particular incident, and keeping the arrow loose between two fingers was one way of ensuring that.

Finally, she sees him. Looking as non-chalant as ever, apple in one hand. As if nothing was wrong with this little scene. "Gwaine? What the hell are you doing?"

Gwaine raises both brows and gives Katniss an angry look -- as if somehow she's offended him by being there -- and wonders if she's going to get either of them further hurt with her presence. "What are you doing?" he demands in turn, his sword levied in her direction. "I'm out here to learn more about the creatures. And you?"

The sword pointed at her does nothing to improve her mood, which wasn't all that sunny to begin with due to a noted lack of sleep. Besides, Cato had used a sword in the Games, and she remembers how it looked still, flashing in his hand. Shiny under the layer of tracker jacker venom bubbling through her mind. All in all, very memorable.

Nor is the angry look helping, because how many times has she seen that exact same look on Gale's face?

"Fine. You're obviously alright here by yourself. I thought I heard someone calling, but I guess I was wrong," she turns on one foot, and reflects on how strange this is - a Gwaine that doesn't want her around, for a change.

Gwaine presses his lips together tightly, not wanting to admit right away that maybe he'd been calling out to see if that was human footsteps that he'd heard or whether he was being stalked by the same prey that he'd come out intending to follow. "You don't...you don't have to go so quickly," he admits, calling after her. "If you wanted to stay and help, maybe it wouldn't be so bad."

"Only if you're sure," she mutters, keeping the arrow nocked to the string just in case. Which turns out to be a good decision on her part, because a second later there's a momentous crash and the sound of falling trees, as a gigantic dinosaur is suddenly upon them.

If they get out of this alive, Katniss is going to kill Gwaine.

Gwaine tips his head back and for a moment, he stares in mild panic at the beast. It's definitely bigger than any wildreen or wyvern he's ever seen and this ranks slightly higher than getting stung by bees on a scale of pain. "Maybe we should run?" he suggests, sword already drawn and ready to pierce the beast's scales, if need be.

Katniss acts automatically, entirely on instinct. The arrow is shot within seconds, embedding itself in the dinosaur's eye, even as the second is drawn. The creature screams, blood spilling out of its wound that's punctured like a bad piece of fruit. Despite the pounding terror in her heart, the second arrow follows the first and hits the other eye, leaving the thing trampling chaotically around.

"One more," she grunts, desperate and determined, biting down on her lower lip. Trying to gauge it.

Gwaine steadies himself, sword resting in both hands strongly. "Katniss," he warns, nodding his head firmly as he listens to the racing beat of his heart. This is adrenaline, pure and simple, but he relishes it and welcomes it after so long away. "Fire and I'll deliver the ending blow. Swords don't count for much unless you're close," he points out.

"Or I could just kill it myself," she mutters, pricklier than usual because Katniss has had quite enough of adrenalin in the past two years. Gwaine might like it - she suspects that he's the type to seek it out but she doesn't, and now he's dragged her into this too. Nevermind that she came into the forest on her own accord; she wants to blame him, so she will.

But for once she does what she's told, which is a miracle on any account. Katniss fires once more, into the gaping wound that was the creature's right eye, driving the arrow deeper into the bleeding flesh.

Gwaine's quick on his feet, just in case he needs to defeat the creature, but it seems to be well-enough defeated by arrow alone. He whips his hair from off his face, glancing over his shoulder to catch a look at her while grinning in delight. "You're good with that thing. I'm not surprised, but you and I should be going out hunting far, far more."

He acts like it's nothing. Katniss turns to watch the now-blinded dinosaur stomp off in another direction. So she hadn't killed it, but it was a close run thing. Breathing hard, she whips around suddenly enough to have the element of surprise on her side before slamming one of her hands into his chest. It probably wouldn't even hurt him, given how skinny her arms were and how little upper-body strength Katniss posessed. But she had to find some way to get the anger out.

"You-- you're a fucking idiot, Gwaine," she shouts, visibly shaken from this latest brush with danger, especially from a body that was still getting used to not being on high alert all the time. "Do you have a death wish or something? I really want to know."

He's little idea why she's so angry at him, but Gwaine doesn't like it in the least. "Whoa," he says, blinking warily and holding up both hands in the air to protest her yelling. "Why are you shouting? What's the matter, you've known that this is who I am. Just because this is the first time you found me here doesn't mean it's the first time I've come because I can, typically, handle myself," he snaps back at her.

"Typically?" Katniss shoots back, with a fire she didn't think she still had. But anger was a base emotion and a familiar one, and it doesn't take very long to get it back. She forces herself to take deep breaths, chest aching because of the speed of her heartbeat. After a few moments she had calmed down, one notch from the wild thing she had been originally. "I don't even know why I care about you," she mutters irritably, arms crossing against her chest. But if he's half as good at reading people as he is at getting drunk, he'll know that she doesn't actually mean it.

"No, I don't know why, either," he admits, because this is what it inevitably boils down to. His drinking, his penchant for adventures (or his tendency to find trouble), they all mix together and they make people realize that he's not the sort of bloke one wants to be around. "And yet, here you are," he points out. "We should head out of the territory. I don't like being here when the sun goes down."

Yet here you are.

It was an infuriating truth, that no matter how hard Katniss tried to shut off her emotions and pretend she didn't care about anyone, someone always managed to slip through her defenses. In this case, many someones. On the island, where she had tried to tell herself that everything was temporary, this had still happened and she was kicking herself for it now.

She said nothing for a moment, turning and walking through the brush, making her way silently back to safety. After a moment, she looked behind her to see if he was still following.

Gwaine follows her, a wary look on his face. "Katniss," he calls out, when they finally hit the place he's figured out is some sort of magical boundary that the creatures can't pass. "Katniss, hold on," he pleads, running after her to get her to stop. "Thank you. Thank you for saving me when I needed it," he says, admitting that he did need the help.

It's the admittance that calms her down, in the end, because Katniss has her own pride and independance enough to know that admitting something like that would be hard for her. So she pauses in her tracks, head turned to listen to him before she shakes her head. Once out of the line of danger, this was easier too.

"It's fine," she muttered, as if the whole ordeal was already forgotten. "You're still an idiot, but I don't regret saving you. Somehow."

"Why do you care, anyhow?" he asks, almost casually as he falls into step with her while they walk. "After all, you're so keen to call me an idiot and all other sorts of names. Wouldn't it just be easier for you if you'd let me to die?" He's always imagined it's coming like that -- a strange creature of magic catching him off guard.

He'll die, but at least he'll die in the midst of something adventurous.

"Because --" she stops for a moment. Because you look like him, Katniss was about to say. But that was wrong too, wasn't it? Gale was gone. The hole he had left behind was still there, but that wasn't all of it. The rest were things that he couldn't quite explain, and after a moment, Katniss simply rolls her eyes and pretends to be annoyed like she always does. Prickliness is her go-to defense mechanism, like a cactus with its needles. "Don't ask questions," she finally concedes, looking at him as if daring him to argue.

"Don't ask questions, she says," he echoes, snorting as he walks along, not daring to talk back to her lest she put an arrow in him. "Well, thank you, Little Kit. And what shall I do to repay you? Leave you alone?"

"You don't have to repay me," Katniss hates owing people, that's a matter of pride that won't go away. But she has no qualms about others owing her. She won't even really keep track. It just helps to know the score, is all. "It's no big deal."

If this is kindness on her part, she neither sees nor acknowledges it.

"Well, you did save my life," he points out, unable to keep his derisive scoff in. His brow is already pinched and he's feeling an ache coming on. "At least, let me drop off a pelt of something or other on your doorstep. Let you borrow my horse?"

"Horse?" Katniss had more than enough pelts and things, and even if she didn't she could always get some herself. But that was one word she hadn't heard much, or at all. There wasn't any use for them in the dystopian future. For all anyone knew, they were extinct. "What's that?"

He's being stupidly stubborn with his need to thank her, but fine. Let him. In some way, Katniss understands. She'd do the same thing.

He stops, absolutely stops, and then grabs at her wrist. "You're coming with me," he says, bringing her along through the paths -- not in the direction of civilization, but towards the stable where he boards Esmeralda. "You've never ridden a horse before? You've never seen one?" he asks, in some disbelief. "I know I'm from a time before most people, but I thought horses would make it through."

"It's some kind of animal, right?" when he grabs her wrist, it's very hard for her not to flinch - in fact she does, but unlike in the past, she doesn't lash out. Katniss grudgingly allows herself to be dragged, curiosity winning over. These are things from a world completely different from hers, which she doesn't belong to. She sees it from a distance, head tilting for a moment.

"Wait. You ride it?"

"I can't believe you've never seen one," he says and it really is pure shock that's all over his face as he talks to her. "Come on, you're not just going to see any old horse, you're going to meet mine. He's a beauty, very good for riding, and I've tamed him and fashioned a saddle. It's not the best, but it'll do."

He leads her along, the pair of them making their way into the stables, and Katniss stares for a moment, wrinkling her nose. It stinks in here, which is saying something because she's no stranger to weird smells. District 12 wasn't exactly the cleanest place in Panem. She watches what she assumes to be the horse warily.

"You could probably feed a family for two weeks with one," she murmurs, taking in how big it is. "There's a lot of meat on it."

"Well, we're not in your world anymore, Little Kit," he says, protecting Esmeralda with his body in front of the stallion, worried that she might come up with a great number of ideas. "Here," he offers, extending his hand to her. "I'll help you up."

Normally, Katniss would have eschewed any help altogether, as was her nature, but one glance of the beast told her that there was no way that she was getting on it without any sort of external help and so she nods - grudgingly, but still. It's a step. "How am I supposed to keep from falling off?" she demanded, because there's nothing quite like this in her world. How could there be?

Gwaine presses his lips together to avoid smirking too hard. He brushes a strand of hair back from off his forehead. "Not to sound utterly lascivious," he says, tapping the flank of the horse. "But you're going to have to pretend that you're astride a very handsome boy and hold tight with your legs."

All things considered, it's a very good thing that Katniss has such dark skin, otherwise the way that the blush creeps over her cheeks would be much more visible than it is. Which is ridiculous. She's not a prude. It's just Gwaine's casual mention that's thrown her for a loop, and she gives him a flustered scowl in return for it. "Well, now I don't want to ride it after all. Since you just made that reference."

He rolls his eyes and gestures to the horse. "It's not a dirty thing, but it's a good way to keep the image in mind. The alternative was telling you to pretend as though you're holding it in after drinking a tankard of ale," he informs her. "Just hold on, will you?" he says as he takes the reins in hand and leads Esmeralda slowly out the stables.

"Fine," it's such an irrational thing to not want to be bested by this animal, or her fears of the unknown likewise. It's just such a foreign concept to wrap her head around - she shot animals, ate them. She didn't ride them, and it wasn't as if there was some sort of similar analogy that existed in her world. Katniss followed the horse (and Gwaine) outside of the stables, still looking up at the thing that obviously dwarfed her in comparison. There was a saddle with lots of straps hanging down - but she's climbed trees before and this shouldn't be any different right? It was just a big...moving...tree.

Katniss is stubborn if nothing else. Except one attempt to climb on just ended in failure. Because unlike a tree, there were no grooves to place her feet in, no branches to reach for purchase.

"This is ridiculous. Why does anyone do this?

Gwaine wraps the lead around his palm and begins to lead the horse outwards into the daylight. "There's a feeling of freedom to it," he explains, finding the best place for her to start. "I'll set him in a light canter. All you have to do is hold on, tight as you can. Can you do that, Little Kit?" he asks warily, not wanting to set her up for an accident -- knowing how serious they really could be.

She sighs, and loudly because it almost physically hurts her pride to have to do this. "You need to...I can't get up on my own," Katniss finally admits, biting down on her bottom lip. Giving him a look that dares him to say anything about it.

Gwaine doesn't say a word. He crouches and forms a step with both of his hands the way he might have done for any child that he would help to ride a horse. "Up you go, then," he coaxes, after giving his stallion a soothing pet.

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