It's A Jungle Out There

Wattys2015

Hi guys!

I'd like to inform you that my stories It's a Jungle Out There and Kindred have both been entered into the Wattys2015 for the Fanfiction Feels award! It would be really helpful if you guys voted for me by going to twitter and linking my story with the hashtag #MyWattysChoice and #Fanfiction Feels. It would mean a lot to me if you voted for either of my stories for The Fanfiction Feels award. If you enjoyed them, I would love it if you voted for my work.

Your support would be greatly appreciated :-)

I didn't want to come empty handed either with just this notice so I've also brought a snippet of Chapter Four of It's a Jungle Out There's sequel Broken Winged Birds that Cannot Fly for you guys to read! Enjoy :P

Thanks for taking your time to read and your continuous support of my writing :-)

Peeta takes me to the tree.

Back when we were studying, Peeta had asked me that instead of going to his house when Prim's scout group is at mine that we go to where he studies when it's too busy in the Bakery. I later learned that he went to this place when his family became too much for him. Well, mainly his mother. I still don't know a lot about his mother. From what I do know, however, she is a complete b.i.t.c.h.

We never got to go to this mystery study destination. Just like it did with our first date, everything got in the way. Peeta's illness and my suspension . . . It all became a huge muddle. After we leave the diner, Peeta takes me there. It's dark out but we don't care. My curfew isn't until eleven so we've got a good few hours left.

Peeta takes me to the meadow. As I wade through the grasses with him, I remember walking through here to reach the woods to practice with the bow with Dad. I tighten my hand around Peeta's, imaging my eight year old self with her tiny hand dwarfed in Dad's huge, calloused hand.

"Do I know this place?" I ask.

"You may," Peeta replied.

In the darkness, I can only make out Peeta's faint outline a little ahead of me, his hand never leaving mine. My blue pumps are getting slightly damp from the rain that had lingers in the grass but I'm not bothered. The night may be a little chilly but I really want to see where this study area is. He takes me further than I ever went with my father, along with the tree line until the trees faded away to nothing but open grassland.

Then I see it . . .