It takes her some time to feel as if she's truly got the measure of the strange bow and arrows. She winds up with about half her quiver's contents buried in the palm tree by the end of it, and then she strides down the beach to collect the one that went astray and pry the others out of the trunk. One's buried deep enough that she ends up needing to use her knife to help pry it loose.

"You were right about needing the knife," she calls back to Peeta, sounding about as cheerful as she has been since she got here. There's just something reassuring about having a working bow in her hands again, despite the gravity of the situation. And the distraction is helping her deal with the eerie silence in her mind. She's made it a rule in the past to turn her magic off while hunting, so shooting with her shields up is strangely restful, like rereading a book you practically know by heart.