(XXI)Mockingjay

112 6 1
                                    

Peeta walked to the middle of the field, letting his feet lead him, just as he'd watched you do for so many years, until they told him to stop. Extending his hands above his head towards the sky, Peeta let out a long deep breath, the morning dew was still fresh in the air, making the foliage smell that much better. Something about it always made him feel at peace and it took holding you at night to understand why. Because you'd spent so much of your life living beyond the fence, there was always a smell in your skin reminiscent of dew, maple leaves and the deep waters of a natural spring. It brought him a comfort he hadn't known he'd been starved for his entire life, not until you burrowed into his covers and deeper into his heart.

First, he begun to whistle. Low and slow. The same way you'd start when you would sing out here, believing yourself to be alone. He closed his eyes and let everyone around him fade away from his thoughts. All Peeta wanted in this moment was to enjoy everything that made you the amazing woman that you are and only those things.

Peeta opened his senses up, breathing deeply with each note that passed his lips, the breeze rolling over his skin, sliding through his hair, just the way your sharp yet, gentle as a feather, nails would to lull him to sleep. On the second verse Peeta started to sing lowly. His arms stretched high above his head, reaching for your hands, that always slid so quickly and easily into his own. Hands he may never get to feel again. Tears rolled down his cheeks as he begun to sing louder, allowing the grief of his failure to protect you pour his emotions into the song in a way he'd never be able to replicate you doing with ease.

He hadn't opened his eyes until he felt talons on his shoulder, a large weight settling on his shoulder, something gentle tickling his cheek. Peeta opened his eyes, head whipping to his left shoulder, eyes widening, a loud sob escaping his throat.

"Peeta be ca-!", Gale called seeing the sharp talons on the animal.
"Aloe!", Peeta cried in astonished disbelief.

The camera crew and Gale were frozen in place as they watched the biggest Mockingjay that they'd ever seen, settle comfortably on Peeta's shoulder, nuzzling his forehead with its own. It was a blue so deep, it may as well have been midnight, a plethora of deep oceanic colors reflecting from its feathers in the sunlight. It was at least three times as big as any Mockingjay should ever be able to grow. Its beak was a bright red, the tip inked black that matched the red markings around its wise, bright eyes. Cressida had no doubt that if it expanded its wings, the undersides would have the same red and black markings. This was clearly a heavily mutated Mockingjay. It's beauty and ferocious looks were remarkable.

Aloe clicked its beak against Peeta's ear affectionately, before it began to whistle the tune, right where Peeta had left off of the Hanging Tree. Peeta extended his arm, bending it in front of him as a perch, that Aloe happily walked along before settling just above his wrist. He'd probably be really heavy to anyone else but Peeta was used to this bird and his weight didn't bother him in the slightest. They'd done this many times before when Peeta would sneak out in the middle of the night just to get away from his loveless family home.

As Peeta began to sing with more confidence in time with Aloe, it was what he did next that made Peeta drop to his knees, unable to stop the emotion from wreaking havoc through his frame. Your voice began to pour out of Aloe's beak, joining Peeta in his song, as he sobbed his way through it. This field, the forest surrounding it, the waters of the lakes you'd swim in, all of them had you sewn into them so deeply; that the natural inhabitants remembered you with only fondness and love. God Peeta missed you so much. He felt as if he would shatter into a million pieces if he didn't get you back in his arms and soon. To be so surrounded by you, but unable to physically hold onto you, was beginning to really drive him insane.

Survivor's RemorseWhere stories live. Discover now