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The mice mutts spy, from a distance, as Katniss carries a dead cat through the forest. She mutters apologetically, and looks sad.

The mice mutts don't buy this. They know very well how much Katniss hates both cats and mice. This has gotta be a trap. But how?

That might be Buttercup. If Buttercup's dead, then that could yet prove a major turnaround point in the mice mutts' rebellion against the Mellarks. But of course, the scouts have to be sure. And they won't risk approaching the dead cat when it's still in Katniss's arms.

Katniss sets the carcass down at the base of a tree trunk. She bows before it, and chants vespers. The mice mutts creep forward, and watch. They don't think Katniss can hear them.

How foolish of them. Even when obsessed with Buttercup, the Girl on Fire's got the ears of a bitch.

"O sacred god of cats," she mutters. "We come today to mourn the loss of another sacred individual in your most sacred superorganism." She fakes sobbing. "This was bound to happen! Your most sacred superorganism was spread so thin over the surface of the planet, that I'm alarmed that you don't lose more individuals more often! But of course, they're adapted to survive. And if you met a single one at any time in the history of its evolution, you'd think that all cats didn't share the same soul...or mind...or space...or reality..." She fakes more sobbing.

Some of the mice mutts yawn. Others listen intently.

"O sacred god of cats...today's loss will not be forfeited in vain. In its absence, more cats will breed. More cats will grow. And yes, more mice will be caught! They will rain down terror from the trees, and from the high ground, against any mouse or bird that dares spread their foreign alien micro-visitors over those who neither want trouble nor ask for it! I may be a white settler of the North American continent, o sacred god of cats, but I never knew my last Eurasian ancestor. And I know in my heart that when she settled here millennia ago, she had good intent. And I do too."

Some of the mice mutts struggle to keep themselves from bursting with laughter. Katniss hesitates, and listens. The mice mutts don't make a sound. The would-be laughing mice snort behind their own mouths and claws, desperate to not get caught, in case Buttercup is only faking his death.

"Many mice won't die. Fewer cats will chase them. But soon, o sacred god of cats, by the will of your neighbors, the virility god and the fertility goddess, more phoenixes WILL rise from the ashes. Cats will breed. Mice will have overbred. And by the will of spring, dawn, and the gas state of matter, a new age of cats will be reborn. They will enhance the feline superorganism, and like angels that purr, rub on things, don't fly, and always land on their feet, they will fight the demonic mice scourge into submission, and there will be order in District 12's chaos once more. And once again, cats will retake the throne, and rule the dominion of...whatever's superior to an insectivore and inferior to a turkey-hunter."

The mice mutts shiver when they hear this. But then, they'd be lying if they could say they didn't expect it.

Katniss kisses her own hand, and caresses the dead cat's ass with it. "Goodbye, Buttercup. I hope they rent lonely manors in cat heaven." With that, she stands, turns, and walks back to the house somberly.

The sun rises. It's still dark over most of Appalachia.

The mice mutts peer at Buttercup's carcass. Something just doesn't quite feel right about any of it...

They listen. An owl hoots in the distance. They fidget. A buck deer calls for a mate. Other than that, all is silent. All is still.

The mice mutts creep towards the carcass. They smell for it. But it doesn't stink at all. They listen. Not a single fly approaches. Something's wrong...

Up above, a baby dove hops out of its nest. It tries to fly. It doesn't. It lands next to the cat's carcass.

The mice mutts halt. Subtly, they creep back to their hides.

The baby dove is adorable. It looks cute an innocent. And even now, before its puberty, it's beautiful. It doesn't seem to detect the cat carcass at all.

The mice mutts are confused. Why doesn't the cat pounce, if he's alive?

The doveling wanders here. She wanders there. She doesn't seem wary of the carcass. What in the name of Chris Columbus...

A compartment opens in the carcass's belly. The doveling doesn't sense it. The mice mutts seem confused. And all at once, they seem frightened.

A black hole opens in the compartment. The doveling cries out for help, jumps, and flaps around. But there's no escape. She's sucked into the hole, and is absorbed into the carcass.

The mice mutts gape and watch. The cat's carcass is animated. It stands. There's something mechanical about it.

It's not a cat-or Buttercup. It's a cat bionic. Or, more specifically, it's a mouse trap. It tortures the mice before killing them.

Inside, they can hear the doveling's screams. The poor thing's being tortured. All along the cat's torso, there are vents. They glow with fire and expel small amounts of smoke.

So, this is what Katniss does to mice. The mice mutts wouldn't expect her to apologize if she ever found out that one of her cruel traps caught a doveling instead of a mouse.

The mice mutts will have to try to spring the doveling before the trap kills her. But where to start?

Spontaneously, the cat bionic vomits sparks into some dry grass far away. It doesn't take long for the grass to catch fire.

The mice mutts watch and analyze. They must save the doveling. But where to start? Most of that bionic's body is like solid steel. Funny; you'd expect a trap to be easier to break into than to break out of. But OTOH, Peeta DID tell his wife that mice are as smart as humans...

One of the mice mutts cries out in alarm. The fire has gotten bigger, brighter, and smokier. They sound a retreat, and vanish.

The cat bionic continues to torture the poor doveling, as if unaware of the impending danger.

The forest fire is catching fire-just like Katniss once did while in the 3rd Quarter Quell. If only Katniss was aware that Peeta was out there.

But then, Katniss probably wouldn't care. KATLANNA, on the other hand, just might weep more...