[She stops short when she sees him standing there. Her own quiver is strapped across her back and her bow slung over her right shoulder. The leather hunting jacket that once belonged to her father falls down to mid-thigh, keeping her warm despite the fall weather. If not for the bow and quiver, she could almost mistake him for someone else.
Shaking her head, snapping herself out of the memories, Katniss takes a deep breath and the remaining steps closer. Glancing up at him briefly, her attention quickly turns to the bow in his hand, assessing the quality. And she grins.]
[Action]
Shaking her head, snapping herself out of the memories, Katniss takes a deep breath and the remaining steps closer. Glancing up at him briefly, her attention quickly turns to the bow in his hand, assessing the quality. And she grins.]
You found it.