It's not my usual clean shot through the eye, but I'll take it. After about an hour, I find a stream, shallow but wide, and more than sufficient for my needs. The sun's hot and severe, so while I wait for my water to purify I strip down to my underclothes and wade into the mild current. I'm filthy from head to toe, I try splashing myself but eventually just lay down in the water for a few minutes, letting it wash off the soot and blood and skin that has started to peel off my burns. After rinsing out my clothes and hanging them on bushes to dry, I sit on the bank in the sun for a bit, untangling my hair with my fingers. My appetite returns and I eat a cracker and a strip of beef. With a handful of moss, I polish the blood from my silver weapons.
Refreshed, I treat my burns again, braid back my hair, and dress in the damp clothes, knowing the sun will dry them soon enough. Following the stream against its current seems the smartest course of action. I'm traveling uphill now, which I prefer, with a source of fresh water not only for myself but possible game. I easily take out a strange bird that must be some form of wild turkey. Anyway, it looks plenty edible to me. By late afternoon, I decide to build a small fire to cook the meat, betting that dusk will help conceal the smoke and I can quench the fire by nightfall. I clean the game, taking extra care with the bird, but there's nothing alarming about it. Once the feathers are plucked, it's no bigger than a chicken, but it's plump and firm. I've just placed the first lot over the coals when I hear the twig snap.
In one motion, I turn to the sound, bringing the bow and arrow to my shoulder. There's no one there. No one I can see anyway. Then I spot the tip of a child's boot just peeking out from behind the trunk of a tree.
My shoulders relax and I grin. She can move through the woods like a shadow, you have to give her that.
How else could she have followed me? The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them.
"You know, they're not the only ones who can form alliances," I say.
For a moment, no response. Then one of Rue's eyes edges around the trunk. "You want me for an ally?"
"Why not? You saved me with those tracker jackers.
You're smart enough to still be alive. And I can't seem to shake you anyway," I say. She blinks at me, trying to decide. "You hungry?" I can see her swallow hard, her eye flickering to the meat. "Come on then, I've had two kills today."
Rue tentatively steps out into the open. "I can fix your stings."
"Can you?" I ask. "How?"
She digs in the pack she carries and pulls out a handful of leaves. I'm almost certain they're the ones my mother uses."Where'd you find those?"
"Just around. We all carry them when we work in the orchards. They left a lot of nests there," says Rue.
"There are a lot here, too."
"That's right. You're District Eleven. Agriculture," I say. "Orchards, huh? That must be how you can fly around the trees like you've got wings." Rue smiles.
I've landed on one of the few things she'll admit pride in. "Well, come on, then. Fix me up." I plunk down by the fire and roll up my pant leg to reveal the sting on my knee. To my surprise, Rue places the handful of leaves into her mouth and begins to chew them. My mother would use other methods, but it's not like we have a lot of options.
After a minute or so, Rue presses a gloppy green wad of chewed leaves and spit on my knee.
"Ohhh." The sound comes out of my mouth before I can stop it. It's as if the leaves are actually leaching the pain right out of the sting.
Rue gives a giggle. "Lucky you had the sense to pull the stingers out or you'd be a lot worse."
"Do my neck! Do my cheek!" I almost beg.
Rue stuffs another handful of leaves in her mouth, and soon I'm laughing because the relief is so sweet. I notice a long burn on Rue's forearm. "I've got something for that." I set aside my weapons and anoint her arm with the burn medicine.
"You have good sponsors," she says longingly.
"Have you gotten anything yet?" I ask. She shakes her head. "You will, though. Watch. The closer we get to the end, the more people will realize how clever you are." I turn the meat over.
"You weren't joking, about wanting me for an ally?" she asks.
"No, I meant it," I say. I can almost hear Haymitch groaning as I team up with this wispy child. But I want her. Because she's a survivor, and I trust her, and why not admit it? She reminds me of Prim.
"Okay," she says, and holds out her hand. We shake."It's a deal."
Of course, this kind of deal can only be temporary, but neither of us mentions that.
Rue contributes a big handful of some sort of starchy root to the meal. Roasted over the fire, they have the sharp sweet taste of a parsnip. She recognizes the bird, too, some wild thing they call a groosling in her district. She says sometimes a flock will wander into the orchard and they get a decent lunch that day. For a while, all conversation stops as we fill our stomachs. The groosling has delicious meal that's so fatty, the grease drips down your face when you bite into it.
"Oh," says Rue with a sigh. "I've never had a whole leg to myself before."
I'll bet she hasn't. I'll bet meat hardly ever comes her way. "Take the other," I say.