SHORT Hunger Games Head Canon

All A Story

Katniss always loved it when her father would tell her stories before bed. When he saw her little oil lamp flickering in the corner he knew she was unable to sleep. He would walk over to her, pushing back the brown locks of hair that had fallen over her hair. "Would you like the hear a story Katniss?"

She nodded her head, pulling her blanket up a little higher over her dainty body to protect her from the cool winds that sometimes blew threw the drafty windows. 

Most of them were about times in the meadow, which she had already visited several times with her father already. One of the most common stories he would tell her were times when he had got amazing amounts of game, which left little Katniss in awe. 

As a child she was amazed by his skills and ease with hunting. That's one of the reasons she didn't refuse to learn the skill when he had asked her about learning. Which was a life saving choice. 

He sometimes would tell one about when he was younger, or how he won over her mother. When she was child, their love was beautiful How he would sometimes pick berries for her, or bring home a bouquet of flowers. 

When she grew older, she always wanted something like that deep down, but love wasn't something she was focused on. Really, it was probably the least she even cared for. She focused on hunting and keeping her family alive. And when she came to realization that she actually loved Peeta, she hated it at first. She didn't want that to be her concern. She didn't want to have to go through the heart breaking moments like watching his blood be splattered upon the floor by a boot, or his attempts to murder her. 

It was the stories her father told of his parents happy memories that kept her running for love in the long run. Without the tales, more then likely, she wouldn't even know what love is. Nor believe in it. Not in the cold world Panem used to be.