CHAPTER 1

Gale reaches the fence at dusk, eager to escape into his safe haven in the woods. He hesitates before crossing, waiting to hear if the hum signaling electricity coursing through the wire is present. When there is no sign of the sound he bolts to the forest, relief seeping through his veins. He feels silly being so worried the fence was on, it never is. But still, he always gets a twist in his stomach before pausing to hear the tell tell sign that the fence is on, keeping him from his true home and true happiness. But even worse, it would mean keeping him from his best and only friend, his true confidant, Katniss Everdeen.

Katniss is amazing. Well that doesn't explain who she is actually, but there are not strong enough words to describe her. He remembers how when they first met and made their hunting arrangement they both were wary and distrustful of the other. As he heads to their usual meeting place, he keeps his mind occupied by the memory of that first meeting, three years ago.

He had been through a rough day. Well all his days were rough, but this one seemed particularly crummy. As usually every girl had stared at him, wistful eyes constantly on him. But to his surprise that day many came up and spoke to him. They would all end up asking him out to the slag-heap, where he took girls to fool around. When he said no they would pester him until he would snap at them that he wasn't interested. They would run off with hurt expressions on their faces, making him feel guilty and shameful, imagining how his mother Hazelle would have given him disappointed scowls. On top of this, the teachers seemed very eager to pick on him as well. Usually he sat at the back of the classroom, looking longingly out the window just wishing he was out in the forest doing something worth while, not sitting there wasting valuable hunting time. So he would think about various snare traps and how to improve them, or coming up with new ones all together. Today, however, the teachers consistently interrupted his thoughts with their stupid questions about our history, how lucky we were for the capitals generosity, the importance of coal mining, blah, blah, blah. When one of his teachers said they were indebted to the capital for their sacrifice and benevolence in forgiving us for rebellion he felt his control cease.

Disgusted he had snapped, "Yes I'm so grateful that the capital forced my father down into the mines, killed him! I'm so grateful that my family goes to bed every night hungry while the people in the capital have so much food at their disposal they throw it up to eat more! And I'm so grateful to the capital for plaguing my life with fear that one day I'll have to watch my little brother or sister get sent into an arena, to become murders or die themselves!" He hadn't realized that his voice had risen to a shout. He was on his feet taking a couple steps toward his teacher while he jabbed his finger towards her with ever word he said. He had seen the fear in her eyes, that look was so familiar, the look of prey. He saw everyone's mouth ajar with disbelief at his blatant hate towards the capitol. He didn't care. With one last icy stare directed at his teacher, he raced out of the room; going to the only place he could find solace.

He ran to the forest, he felt like it enveloped him in an embrace as he stepped into its dense vegetation. He knew he'd get punished for his outburst, probably a few lashes even, but he couldn't find himself to care. It had felt good lashing out at his teacher like that, letting everyone know that he hated the capital, their abuse. For a moment he rode a high of adrenaline. It soon wore off when the pressures of that day weighted on him and he realized those lashes would be a pain. He decided that he would go check his traps, hoping that the comfort of some fat rabbits around his belt would soothe his growing uneasiness.

He started to dread the future beating he would receive. He found himself hoping he would get Darius or Cray to punish him. He knew they would ease up on the force behind the lashes that would bite his skin, maybe even lessen the sentence. Still it would be painful and it would take weeks to heal. This is how he had found her, his head caught up in the dread of upcoming events.

She stood there intently examining his snare. Stunned and ashamed for his lack of observance of his surroundings he cursed himself, a pack of wild dogs could have caught him off guard, killed him. Then he would be the death of his family as well. They wouldn't survive long with out his constant stream of game and money from trades at the hob. He worked through his self disgust quickly, there were more pressing matters.

He had never seen anyone else in the woods before. Everyone was too scared to leave the "safety" of the fenced community of District 12. Of course, this thinking was ludicrous because it was actually more dangerous in there than out here. But the schools made sure to fill the student's heads with false blather about how mutts live out in the woods and will tare you to pieces once your foot touches the ground outside the fence. Well there was a ring of truth to that, since there were mutts in the woods. But they were easy enough to avoid. Knowing this he commended the girl for her bravery for manning the forest alone.

She was very scrawny, with a long dark braid twisting around her head and going over her right shoulder. She wore an oversized hunting jacket and pants. He almost laughed, she was swimming in them. Warn boots covered her feet. This was all he could ascertain from her since her back was to him. He saw her hand flash to reach for the rabbit; he knew it was time to make himself known.

"You know, stealing is punishable by death?" he almost laughed again. Why would this girl care? Being out here is punishable by death. She jumped and quickly turned around. He could see her surprise; 'She had thought these woods were all hers,' he noticed dryly, well we had both been surprised there.

"I wasn't going to steal it," she replied hastily. "I just wanted to know how you made your snare, mine never catch anything," she spoke so quietly I had to strain to hear her.

He was getting a good look at her now; she was facing him straight on. He recognized her, not surprising though because she probably went to school. But this recognition brought up a feeling of emptiness and sorrow, not towards her but the moment in which he had first seen her. He couldn't quite pin it though, and not liking the feeling that the effort of recollection brought along with it he dropped trying to recall where he had seen her.

He saw the flash of fur at her waist and took in the plump squirrel dangling from her belt. He flushed with annoyance, "If you can't catch anything with your snares than what is there at your hip?" Seriously, did she think him daft?

She bent over and stretched out her hands to something on the ground while she murmured, "I didn't catch it I shot it." She wiped out a nice, sturdy bow and a quiver of arrows.

"Can I see that?" he had asked without even processing the words that crossed his lips. A bow. She has a bow. How can she have a bow? He looked at the weapon in her hand in total and utter shock.

She stretches out her arm towards him, gesturing for him to take it. More shock. He would have never let anyone else get near that bow if it were his. He finds it odd that this young girl would actually trust him with such a rarity.

As he grasps it she adds, "Just remember, stealing is punishable by death."

Before he can stop it he smiles, a genuine smile. He can't remember the last time he actually felt this gesture stretch across his face. He can only remember smiling when his dad was still alive. Another surprise, this stranger girl was full of them. He examined the girl, but more discreetly this time. He realized that she was of the small and slender build, but she wasn't scrawny as he had thought, she was hungry. She didn't tell him this of course, but you'd have to be blind to not see it. Her cheek and collar bones were too prominent, they jutted out too sharply. This made her already large eyes seems abnormally big for her head. She had a straight nose and pale skin. Her lips were full too, except she held them in a scowl. Her eyes were hard and carried a kind of strength that seemed out of place. She could only be 12 or 13, but her eyes said she had seen pain and sorrow and so much of the hardness in life. The eyes were too old for her face. Then he remembered were he had seen her and felt a twinge of sympathy for this stranger girl. She had been part of another family that had lost their father to the mine explosion that had killed so many men, including his father.

I remember now that her mother and young sister both had light hair, just the opposite from her dark locks. I remember her trying to put on a brave face while her sister clung to her leg crying when the mayor presented her with the medal of valor to commemorate her father's sacrifice. I also recall her mother staring dead eyed into the distance, her face devoid of life. I later learned that not only had Katniss lost her father in the explosion, but her mother as well. She had tried to get her mother to return to them but she stayed in a shell never noticing them. Not even caring when her children were on the verge of death from starvation. I don't know if I would have been able to make it if Hazelle had left me also when my father died. I still can't believe the strength she must have had to over come that. To continue on in life when all she loved-

"Hey," I startle at the sound of Katniss's voice, ushering me back to the present. I'd arrived at our meeting place and had been sitting, daydreaming. I turned to her, startled by how good she looked today. The smile she wore was a precious gift; she only wore it around him and her sister Prim. She had grown quite a lot since the day he had caught her with his snares. She had the same dark braided hair that curled around to her shoulder, but it was longer and glossier now. Her eyes were big but not so abnormally. She filled out her body; she no longer had the sharp edges and juts of bone from hunger. She was very beautiful, too beautiful. He hated how the eyes of other boys lingered on her. They often asked if he and Katniss were together, and every time he told them no. Then they would start saying things about her, things they'd like to do, and he'd feel so angry he would see red.

She never noticed of course. Even if she did she wouldn't care. Katniss has seen to much, felt too much of the world's horrors for the immaturity of high school. She does however notice how the girls stair after him, talk and giggle about when they pass. She hates this, just as I hate the way guys speak of her. But we both understand that it is not out of jealousy, we are bonded together out of mutual survival but also something more. We are each other's best friend, but that doesn't quite describe the bond we share either. All I know is that they will be linked for life; a good hunting partner is hard to find.