The forest smelled of pine and damp earth as you followed Katniss through the trees. Her movements were silent, precise—like she was part of the woods herself. You tried to keep up, stumbling over roots and low branches, but she just glanced back and smirked

“You’re slower than I thought,” she teased, tying an arrow to her bowstring

“I’m trying,” you huffed “but I didn’t grow up hunting in the woods.”

Katniss laughed softly, the sound blending with the rustling leaves. She paused, crouched, and picked a handful of small, vibrant wildflowers growing along the path. You watched as she arranged them carefully in her hands

“What are you doing?” you asked, curious

“You’ll see,” she said, a mysterious glint in her eyes. She continued picking flowers, sometimes pausing to tie them together with thin strands of leather from her satchel. Soon, she was weaving them into a delicate necklace

When she finally stood, she approached you quietly“Close your eyes,” she instructed

You obeyed, feeling the cool air on your skin and the faint scent of flowers filling your senses. A soft weight was placed around your neck

“Open them,” Katniss said

You blinked, and your eyes fell on the necklace she had made—a simple chain of wildflowers, vibrant and alive, each petal perfectly preserved. Your heart skipped a beat