Rewarded for her earlier act

As night falls over the arena, Katniss huddles in a small cave she found earlier, her body trembling with exhaustion and adrenaline. The events of the day replay in her mind, the fear and humiliation she felt at the hands of the District 3 and 7 tributes mixing with the fierce satisfaction of her ****.

She wraps her arms around herself, trying to ward off the chill that seems to seep into her very bones. The darkness presses in around her, broken only by the occasional flicker of lightning in the distance. She knows she needs to sleep, to rest and regain her strength, but her mind won't quiet.

Images of Prim's face flash through her thoughts, her sister's gentle smile a stark contrast to the brutality of the arena. Katniss feels a pang of guilt, knowing that she's becoming more and more like the monsters she's fighting against. But she pushes the thought aside, reminding herself that she's doing this for Prim, for her closest male friend Gale, for her family, for her district.

She closes her eyes, trying to focus on her breathing, to calm the racing of her heart. But even in the darkness, she can feel the weight of the arena pressing down on her, the knowledge that **** could come at any moment.

A twig snaps outside the cave, and Katniss's eyes fly open, her hand instinctively reaching for her bow. She holds her breath, listening intently for any sign of danger. But the forest remains still, the only sound the distant rumble of thunder.

Moments later, a package is dropped down from the sky. A simple care package that has been sent through by sponsors watching the games back in the Capitol. It’s a reward for the entertainment she gave them during the day.

Slowly, she relaxes, her muscles unclenching. With a sigh, she settles back against the wall of the cave, pulling her knees up to her chest. She knows sleep will come eventually, whether she wants it to or not. And when it does, she'll face whatever challenges the new day brings, just as she always has.

The sound of the cannon fires one more time that evening, signalling another ****. It could have very easily been the district three boy who was tied helplessly to the tree. If that’s the case… Karma has struck.

***

The next three days, Katniss keeps moving, on the lookout for Peeta, her fellow district 12 representative.

By Day Five, she has yet to have run into anyone since the two male tributes she faced earlier.

The sun beats down mercilessly on Katniss as she makes her way along a nearby riverbank, the heat shimmering off the water in waves. She can feel the sweat trickling down her back, soaking through her clothes and making them cling to her skin.

She knows it's the Gamemakers' doing, their twisted way of tormenting the tributes. They want to see how they'll react under **** conditions, how far they'll go to survive.

As the day wears on, the heat becomes almost unbearable. Katniss's clothes are damp with sweat, chafing against her skin with every movement. Underneath her sports bra, her sweat is like a waterfall, running down her impressive rack. She knows she can't go on like this, not if she wants to stay hydrated and avoid heatstroke.

With a resigned sigh, she begins to strip off her clothes. The sweaty shirt discarded, she peels down her leggings, revealing the black thong she had on underneath. Her ass cheeks were in full display as she did so, the soft material wedged between her cheeks.

Letting her clothes fall to the ground in a heap, Katniss stands there for moment in just her underwear, the air touching her is a welcome relief against her overheated skin.

She wades into the river, the water cool and refreshing against her legs. She ducks her head under the surface, letting the water soak her hair and run down her face.

For a moment, she allows herself to forget about the arena, about the other tributes and the cameras watching her every move. She focuses on the feeling of the water against her skin, the gentle current tugging at her legs.

But even as she enjoys this brief respite, Katniss knows that she can't let her guard down. The arena is a constant threat, a reminder of the brutal reality she faces.

She swims for a while, letting the water wash away the sweat and grime of the day.

Katniss steps out of the river, water droplets glistening on her skin in the harsh sunlight. She reaches for her clothes, but pauses, a prickling sensation running down her spine. She feels eyes on her, watching her every move.

Slowly, she turns, scanning the surrounding trees and bushes. At first, she sees nothing, just the usual forest landscape. But then, a flicker of movement catches her eye, a shadow darting behind a tree trunk.

Katniss's heart races, her body tensing for fight or flight. She knows she's **** like this, wet and half-naked, her bow and quiver lying on the riverbank.

She takes a step back towards the water, ready to dive in and swim away if necessary. But then, a figure steps out from behind the tree, and Katniss's blood runs cold.