The Sexual Hunger Games

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The Sexual Hunger Games

The forlorn trill of a nearby mocking-jay made no impression on the young woman crouched low in the forest, her laser-like focus on the deer before her. Silently, she withdrew an arrow from her quill and notched it, drawing back the bowstring ever so carefully so as not to spook the already on-edge prey.

“Hey,” came the voice from behind her, causing her to jump slightly and sending the startled deer into a panic run. She fired anyway, her shot went wild and in seconds, what would have amounted to a month’s worth of meat for her family was gone.

“Gale! You jerk, you…” Katniss had quickly turned on the man, moving toward him in a semi-threatening manner.

“I have two deer,” he said, putting up his hands in mock defense. “One for my family, one for yours. Took them just a short while ago.”

Katniss stopped her advance at the mention of two deer. She looked at her friend, a boy, a boyfriend, she mused and she felt closer to him than any other male. She had done things with him that she’d never done with another male. Guess that’s what makes him special, she thought.

“You think you’re special,” she said, accusingly.

He smiled, that awkward half-smile of his that lately caused her heartbeat to escalate when in his presence.

Later, after they finished dressing the animals, both were sitting on a secluded ledge overlooking their town.

“Have something for you, catnip.” Gale reached into his burly coat pocket and pulled out a small package, crudely wrapped.

She took it and unwrapped it. It was a ring.

“Gale,” she said, looking at him, but got interrupted.

“Happy birthday.”

It wasn’t ostentatious, or glittery, or problematic, except for its implied intent. No precious stone, but rather a crude carving of a small bird.

“Gale,” she said, a bit softer this time. “I am not ready for any kind of…”

“It’s a birthday present, catnip. I am not asking you to marry me.” The smile was back. “You like the pin, I thought you might like the ring ……

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