Uh, this is a fanfiction, which means that I am a fan writing a fiction based on an already published work, namely, The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. I never intended to write another fanfiction, but my love for Buttercup demanded recompense. You shall soon understand why she won my heart. Feel free to judge. I'm not even a cat person. I usually prefer dogs. I also appreciate reviews, that way I know that the story is being read.


I was born into the lap of Luxury. Needless to say, she freaked out. Her screams were the first sounds to welcome me into this strange, big, new world.

As I gazed around for the first time, blinking to clear my vision, my mother's rough tongue reached me, and she began cleaning my small body. Soon, my brothers and sisters joined me, and we soon discovered the importance of sibling rivalry, as we fought each other to fill our stomachs as quickly as possible.

My mother's eyes shone with pride as she watched us romp around the chair, so suddenly vacated by Luxury. In retrospect, I wonder if my mother had done it on purpose. She always had a unique sense of humor, and I imagine that depositing her babies right on the lap of that sniveling, fat lump of a child had brought along no small measure of satisfaction.

Those first few weeks were happy times. My siblings and I had free range of the vast house and got into everything within reach. We even played with Luxury. Well, 'teased' would probably be a better word. We stole ribbons, hid pearls, and even delivered presents of rats to her nightstand. The latter won us banishment from her suite of rooms. The moment we were weaned from our mother, Luxury was demanding that her mother fulfill her promise to get rid of us.

My tail seemed to cause a great deal of concern to Luxury's mother. I couldn't understand why. I thought my tail looked splendid. I finally got around to asking my mother about it.

"Oh, she's afraid that you kits aren't purebreds," she explained as she led us through the dark alley to meet our dad by the garbage heap.

"You're sure they're mine?" he purred slyly as he touched each of our noses in greeting. Mother pretended to gag.

"You really think I'd let that pretentious prick touch me?" she acted hurt. Now we were the ones gagging.

Apparently, the Powers-that-be decided that arguing about our pedigree was a waste of precious time, as we continued to get bigger. I watched as my brothers and sisters were taken away one by one.


It really didn't bother me, being the last one in the house. Mother and I enjoyed each other's company and often took clandestine trips to visit my dad. Occasionally, my dad would take me out and about town. He showed me all there was to see in District 1. We peeked through windows, watching jewelers on their high stools peering at priceless jewels through magnifying glasses or setting stones into watches, rings, hair accessories, and so much more. We saw clothing designers sifting through piles of rich fabrics and rushing back to their desks to sketch out their sudden inspirations. We padded softly through the vast factories, as men, women, and children alike put together handbags and shoes on the assembly lines. My dad even snuck us into one of the after-school training camps, where we observed children practicing with swords and maces. Learning hand-to-hand combat, wrestling, and spear throwing. I thought my dad knew everything in the world, but he swore that he would never understand how parents could send their children off to fight each other like that. He says that he has only ever seen humans do it, so it must be one of those humane things people talk about.

One day I came home from an outing to find the house in an uproar. I sought out my mother for an explanation.

"Where were you?" she hissed. Not waiting for my response, she continued. "We're about to leave for the Capitol." We piled into the car that was to take us to the train station. Luxury threw quite the tantrum when she discovered that I had been found and was coming along. From that moment, I determined to make every moment on the train a living hell for her.

I was only an hour into my fiendish plan when the Peace-minions cornered me on Luxury's cosmetic table. I glared at them fiercely, daring them to come closer. I saw the movement in my adversary's eye and was able to anticipate the attack. I leapt out of the way in the nick of time. I took off across the counter, sending well-aimed powder pots flying into the faces of my foes. I grinned in delight as their curses and coughing reached my ears. Glancing around quickly, I determined my next course of action. I fixed my eyes on the ledge above me. I've jumped higher distances before, so I figured that I could easily take it. I took the leap.

Ahhh! My tail swung and hit something as I took off, interrupting my balance. I failed to catch onto the ledge and plummeted back down, landing head first into the garbage pail. I have never been so ashamed in my life. The Peace-minions carried me triumphantly to another train car and tossed me in. Fortunately, I quickly recovered my dignity and got up to explore my new environment. This car was fairly empty, so my discoveries were few and inconsequential. I curled up for a nap.


When I woke up, the train had stopped moving. I got up and looked around. No one was to be seen. The door, however, was open, so I hopped out of the train car and into the bright sunlight. The sun was very warm, but a cool breeze kept the air moving and the temperature comfortable. I took in my surroundings. The place looked nice enough. Cozy, wooden, two-story houses stood in rows. Thick storm shutters were thrown back and all the windows open to the breeze.

I snapped myself back to the task at hand. Finding my mother. After determining that my mother wasn't in sight, I decided to get back on the train. I turned around just in time to see the doors close and to hear the ominous whoosh of the train starting up again. I began to panic. My heart started thumping out of my chest. My mother was leaving me behind. I ran alongside the train to get a good start and leapt onto the step below the door. My paws skid across the surface, but I managed to catch a hold with my foreclaws. I held on fiercely for some time, but eventually the speed of the train was too much, and I lost my grip.

I fell backward.

I hit something hard.

I must have lost consciousness, because the next thing I knew, I was opening my eyes to see another set of eyes gazing back at me. I felt myself being lifted into the air by some rough, calloused hands. I stared curiously into the weather beaten face.

The man's eyes were soft and green with numerous wrinkles radiating from the corners. No one had ever held me like this before. I didn't like the feeling. I felt vulnerable. I shivered involuntarily. He unbuttoned the top of his shirt and tucked me inside, misinterpreting my shivers. I stiffened at the contact, but then I felt his heart beat. It was loud, very loud. And slow. Much slower than my mother's heart beat. It was oddly comforting.

Thud. Thud.

I focused on the sound and the slight vibration it made with each beat. His chest rose and fell with each breath.

I relaxed.

I couldn't help it.

Soon, I was asleep.