AN: I do not own either of the characters in this piece. As far as I am aware, this is an original idea.

I honestly love this idea and these two so much.

I hope you enjoy it.

Bryony~

Every morning starts this way. I smell freshly cut grass, the smell stinging my nostrils. My eyes burn and my fists ball up, rubbing against them. It's the same routine every morning. I sit up; pull a blade or two of grass from my braids and cross my legs before me. I look up, and there she is. She smiles gently, lips pressed firmly together. I have never plucked up the courage to ask her just who she is, but within me there is something which knows just who she is. There was never really much detail about her; a few words spoken about her, her image on my television. Never had I met her before I came here.

I know little about myself in this setting. I feel like a human. From what I can see, I am human. But my face remains to be seen.

In a breath, the scene around us changes and the thin blade of grass I am twirling in my fingers is covered in snow. The flakes catch in my braids and flutter on my eyelashes. I watch her lips part and the meet again, her expression remaining the same. It has been this way for so long, yet I do not remember. A small, black finger trails through the snow and my head jerks upwards, our eyes meeting. This happens frequently, and I begin to reach out to her, but she scuttles backwards, legs pushing into the snow.

I try to get up, to move, but I cannot use my legs properly. It has been so long, it seems I do not remember how. I feel downtrodden and disheartened, and I begin to shake. As I begin to shake, large drops of water fall onto my upturned palms. I cannot tell from the skyline whether these are teardrops or simply raindrops. I have felt no such emotion since I arrived at this place, but now my body is wracked with sobs, my chest heaving painfully.

I struggle to move one foot in front of the other, trembling like a newly born colt. I lurch forward as she skips against the horizon. Her outfit catches my eyes and they begin to burn again, but my arms swing limply by my side. I drive forward, but my leg swings amply and finds ground before me. She flitters along in the distance, a mass of wiry brown hair and dark brown skin. I blink furiously at her, her white sundress and sandals contrasting starkly against her. I stride forward, my foot barely brushing the snow. I seem to glide, but my legs are heavy and quake with the slightest movement.

Sobs rush through my chest once more, a noise like a drowned kitten leaving my slightly parted lips. I do not register that this is me until I reach her, left arm outstretched, weak fingers grasping onto the silky sleeve of her dress. I just catch her within my grubby hand, leaving dirty fingerprints beneath. She stops skipping immediately and stands stock still, arms at her sides.

With what little energy I have left, I turn my head to see the distance I have trodden. While I feel as if I have walked a few dozen miles, only nine footprints are left behind me. Tears roll off of my cheeks and fall to the floor. I stare at the girl, her dress still in my grasp. She smiles humbly back at me, her expression hardly changing as I stare. That shy, self-effacing smile doesn't leave her lips.

I blink ferociously, pulling her towards me and she glides across the snow an inch or two. I feel more tears fall from my cheeks and the urge to clasp this girl between my two hands and scream at her. I feel her name rise upon my tongue, but it does not fall.

I doubt her ability to hear me if I had begun to scream. As if to confirm, she nods once. My eyes bulge from their sockets and I pull her closer, lips parting slightly as if her name would form here. I breathe deeply, slowly and my arm falls. My braids have fallen apart now, hair plastered to my forehead, blue sundress almost see-through now. Rain falls harder with this realisation and with a flash of lightning I speak the first word I have spoken in thirteen days.

"Rue."

Her face falls and she breaks into a run.

Rue.

The girl from District 11 who placed 7th in the 74th annual Hunger Games.

"That's right, Primrose," she whispers in my ear, and I notice I am running along beside her. "I am Rue."

And suddenly I remember exactly who I am.