The water is slowly slipping from her skin, dribbling downwards as she finally exits on the beach and steps towards the filly. She does not feel the cold, though she suspects she probably should. Perhaps it is the kelpie in her that allows her to not feel the frigidness of the mountain lake. Perhaps it is her massive body mass that insulates her. Perhaps it is just her brain refusing to acknowledge the cold. It could be for so many reasons and instead of dwelling on them all, Katniss just allows it to be.
When Aspara greets her, Katniss offers her a soft smile. It is small at first and it takes a long time for it to fully pull at the corners of her lips. She is unsure why it takes her so long to smile. Perhaps it is because so much light has been taken from Katniss. No longer is she the beacon of light that most knew her to be. She has become a shell of the person she once was. Losing Metaphor had damaged Katniss in a way that was impossible to come back from. But she was trying. She was here and trying to make the most of the life she had been dealt, even if she was angry at Metaphor for leaving her and even more angry that Isra left her alone. She feels as though she has no friends. Metaphor left. Asterion left. Isra left. Everyone she has ever grown to love has left her. It doesn’t leave her much hope in this world.
When she asks her what it’s like under there, Katniss contemplates the question, thinking about the answer. She could tell her that it’s cold and dark, but that won’t help a dreamer. And so, she tries to describe it as best she can. “There is a sense of peace that washes over you as the water engulfs you. It is as if nothing exists in the world but you. It’s quiet and peaceful. If you listen carefully, you can hear the words of those passed on.” It was where she went to think. When the world seemed almost too loud, Katniss went beneath the surface to surround herself with quiet and peace.
She asks another question, this one more about the logistics of the lake. Katniss admires her curiosity. “Deep enough that you must weigh yourself down to sink to the bottom. The bottom is covered in sand and vine like plants that seem to guide you through the lake like a maze.” The fish sing songs of a hope to fly while she wishes she could sink and die. “Soon my magic will be strong enough for me to show you.” Isra would probably not approve of her showing Aspara the peace that the lake gives. But then again, Isra wasn’t here.
@Aspara
