The day had started like any other. It was nothing extraordinary, and Katniss had awoken at her usual time, grazed quietly along the banks of the lake. She had looked to the sky, wondering what was in store for her today. Another day of patrolling, she was sure. And once her belly was full, the draft set out to make her morning rounds. After all, someone had to keep Denocte safe from harm. According to Isra, there was no one left to take on such a task. And so, Katniss had accepted it with no complaints. She took her job very seriously. And yet, there was something about today that seemed different. She wasn’t quite sure what, but something seemed off.
She hears something and her eyes look upward, seeing an eagle on his way towards the mountains. It was a sight she had seen nearly every day, so her eyes lay back forward and off she travels.
But as she draws closes to the mountain range, something feels different. There’s something drawing her towards the mountains, something whispering into her ear that she must go. It’s a sensation, a story that she has never heard before, but there is a calmness to the voice. Somehow, it eases her fears and encourages her to keep stepping forward, to follow the path up the mountain. It is as if she is drawing closer to something, or someone.
With each step forward she takes, she feels that draw almost increasing in intensity. And instead of fear, she feels a sense of calmness and peace. It feels like she is supposed to be along this path today. Was there some event that Isra had planned? No, she didn’t think there was, not after the festival. And so she keeps stepping forward, eager to find out just why she feels the need to visit the mountains today.
But even as she urges her feet forward, she cannot help but feel that although her path feels right, something else seems chaotic. She feels as though someone needs her help. But who? She has more questions than she has answers. But even with the strange feelings and the skepticism, she continues forward. Like a moth drawn to a flame, she takes another step forward, her pace increasing almost as if a slower pace might cause some sort of harm.
As she nears the peak of the mountain, the sky seems to darken. Dark clouds cover the sunlight and a darkness seems to cover the landscape. But up ahead, Katniss sees something. It’s still too far away for her to see exactly what it is, but she steps closer. That pull that she’s felt all day only grows stronger. Whatever was up ahead, was that who she was supposed to help?
And as she gets close enough, the clouds seems to burst open and the spot she stands is filled with sunlight. She blinks back the rays of the run, the sudden light painful. But as her eyes adjust to the light, she looks down at the eagle who lay in a heap upon the uneven ground. He’s struggling to move, to fly. He’s hurt. She can see the drops of blood that surround him and she cans see the way he limps.
And then she looks the eagle in the eye. When their eyes meet, Katniss is unprepared for the feeling that washes over her. It’s hard to describe. It’s a feeling of peace, of purpose, of a sense of need to protect him. It’s almost like the feeling a mother has when she delivers her foal (A feeling Katniss had missed out on with her own twins, but she had witnessed it before). The eagle seems to stop his flailing and calms, as if he understands that Katniss will not hurt him.
Her feet draw her forward until she is hovering over the eagle. She looks at him curiously, wondering why she had been drawn to him. She doesn’t understand the draw, but she does not fight it. Slowly, her head lowers and she sniffs at the feathers at the top of his crest. And when her nose meets his feathers, there’s a sort of strange feeling that jolts through her body like a bolt of electricity. It is now that she understands the feeling, and it appears as though he understands it as well. Metaphor had a bonded once, a curious little fox. It was now that Caligo saw fit for Katniss to be given her own bonded.
She lowers herself to the ground, making herself as small as she could. It was hard for a mare as big as she to make herself appear so small. Nose is outstretched towards him, encouraging him forward. “Come, now…I won’t hurt you. Climb up on my back and I will lead you to safety.” He offers no complains and slowly works at crawling his way towards her and then hoisting himself up on her back. Once he’s settled, Katniss slowly rises to an upright position.
As her feet began to lead her back down the mountain and towards the court, she looks back at him. “What is your name, my friend?” The eagle looks to her and nods his head softly. “Finnick.” His words are spoken in the safety of her mind and it startles Katniss at first. She’d never spoken to a bird before. Her words had just been to make pleasant conversation with herself. And yet…the bird had spoken. But instead of fear, it feels right…like it always should have been. And so, the draft and her bonded scale down the mountainside, reminiscing about the past and planning for the future. It was as if they were always meant to be together, Katniss and Finnick.
@Random Events
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