She hadn’t meant to nearly run anyone over tonight. Perhaps it was the increase in bodies that lined the cobblestone streets or perhaps it was just the fact that she was so preoccupied as of late. With Metaphor gone and Kibou starting to grow more independent, Katniss was struggling as a mother. She had never really been given the opportunity to be a mother before, so deciding what took precedence in her life was a juggle she was struggling to learn. Her court needed her…but so did her son.
She watched as his body turned sharply as a result of her colliding with his hip. She backed up quickly into the tent, only her head and shoulders visible from beneath the tent opening. She waits until there’s a little more room to move around before she steps fully from the tent, eyes looking upwards as the moonlight lights up the court. “That may be so, but it is still rude on my part.” Katniss had never been one to be rude intentionally. She had always tried her best to be welcoming, friendly, and overall kind. She had been raised in such a manner and rudeness was never something that she condoned, even amongst her enemies. Perhaps that was another one of her flaws as well.
It was now that she got to look at the red fellow, his color so similar to Moira’s. She had seen him before, at a court meeting she thinks, but it had been a long time since she had seen him around. In fact, she couldn’t remember the last time she had seen him wandering the court. At least he appeared to be well, and that was important to her.
It was when he asked what she had done in the tent of mourning that caused her to sigh. Perhaps the smiling, apologetic appearance now looked far more somber as she reflected on just why she had come to this very tent to light a candle. It was still hard to talk about her loss, to feel the feelings of grief and love. “I came to remember someone very dear to me who was prematurely killed in an attempt on my life.” She had come to find out that the bomb that had killed her beloved Metaphor had been meant for her. Someone did not like her in her current position and had seen fit to see her removed. But their plan had backfired and Katniss had lost the one man she loved more than anything. “…but in the same breath…thank him for what he gave me before his departure from this life.” Kibou. Her son. Her perfect son. Metaphor had given her the most precious gift before his passing and Katniss had vowed to protect that boy with every ounce of her being. That boy was all she had left of Metaphor and the love she felt for him. Kibou was so much like his father that it open hurt just to look at him. But when he looked up at her with those soft, curious eyes, she knew he would be great one day. He would be the medic his father so longed to be.
A brief shake of her head was used to keep the tears at bay. The loss was still fresh, still hard. She could not be seen emotional in front of another fellow soldier. She was supposed to stand tall and brave, not collapse in a heap of emotion. “What has brought you back to court life? It has been some time.” Diverting the conversation would be best, she supposed. At least now they could talk about him instead of Metaphor, of Kibou.
@Raymond
