She had left him tied down, hidden in the bushes while she went to hunt, and not was close by to hear him moving. The creek kept everything too wet to starts a fire, and she had moved up the bank to cook the small, surprisingly plump woodland creatures she'd managed to snag them.

She had also managed to find some of Rue's leaves, chewing them and pasting them to any marks of tracker jackers she could find.

Moving down, slowly, quietly, she watched him.