"Peeta, ..there's someone in the woods", my heart pounding out of my chest, "they might have seen us, oh fuck, do you think they did?".
"Let's just get dressed and go quickly, I don't want to stay around where there's some pervert watching us", he scans the woods behind us, pulling on his crumpled shirt.
I feel ever so vulnerable walking though the woods without my bow, even though I know each route like the back of my hand, the thought of the gate being free for anyone to enter still leaves me feeling slightly scared.
My eyes catch the slight shine of something as we hurry back to the village.
A snare, there's only one person who doesn't know about the new poaching law in district 12, or who would be stupid enough to do it anyway, Gale.
I think we have a little stalker", my voice angry and hands balled into fists, "what do you mean? I can't see anyone, it's silent".
I point to the snare and he realises before I even have to say his name.
"Why can't be just leave us alone", Peeta's clenched fist hits the tree and several birds fly out, his face full of anger.
Pulling his hand upward I see the blood dripping down and pooling in the crease of his elbow, I can tell he is in a lot of pain and doesn't resist when I wrap my sock around the gash, "shit Katniss, I'm sorry", he frowns as I hold his arm up.
"We need to get you to the doctors, I think you broke something", I stare at his hand as he tries to flex the fingers peaking from the sock, "I really shouldn't loose control around you, I really.., I just don't want to ever hurt you again".
The memories of that night flood back to me.
"Peeta, PEETA, your ok, I'm here for you..", I pull at his writhing body as he thrashes about, hijacked by another horrific dream,
His strong body goes limp next to me as he floods back to reality.
There's a long pause before he turns to look at me, the light from our bedside lamp making his dilated pupils shine with tears, "mutt..", he growls, "MUTT".
There's a sharp jab in my side as I get pushed out of bed, falling into a corner and wedging myself against the draws, clutching a pillow against my face before the pressure around my neck becomes to much and I have to scream out.
"PLEASE STOP", I beg.
"YOUR A MUTT, A DIRTY MUTT AND YOUR KIND NEEDS ERADICATING", Peeta chants, almost possessed within his warped dream.
If Haymitch wouldn't have entered just a second later to wrestle Peeta to the ground I don't know what would have happened, maybe he would have killed me, killed himself when he realised what he had done or even ran away leaving my bruised body to decay.
All I know is whatever pain he inflicts on me I will still love him more than my life.