Summary: Katniss has always looked to her bow to help her and her family survive. She just doesn't look at it in exactly the same way as she used to. One-shot.

It Means Survival

Her bow used to sit in that log out in the woods, all the time. Now, it hangs on the back of the front door, because everything's different and she doesn't need to hide it anymore.

Snow is dead, the Games are no longer.

Prim is dead, her mother has stayed behind to work as a healer in District Four.

Gale is gone, she only has Peeta and Haymitch left.

Everything's changed, and her bow is still here.

Her bow has always meant safety and survival.

Her father taught her how to shoot when she was younger. Then, he died, and she was the one left to hunt for them, to feed them. Her bow meant staving off starvation.

Then, she volunteered for the Games. And her bow protected her, killed for her. Marvel, Cato, countless mutts, Gloss, the whole second arena, Peacekeepers, more mutts, Coin.

Now, she can barely look at it. But it still means survival, and that currently means food, again.

She hopes it never means shooting another person, again.