A/N: I know I have some other unfinished fics but right now I'm working on a few at a time and since this is a one-shot I decided to just finish and upload it.

Disclaimer: If I owned the Hunger Games...if.

She was just a child when she asked the question that would change her life. She was curious and in no way could predict the brusque answer she would be given. But she asked it with her childish ignorance.

She asked why the lady on the television was orange and had whiskers while she was fair-skinned and had nothing growing out of her face.


She wanted to look normal. She had always wanted to. Normal, to her, to every Capitol citizen. She wanted a makeover, but she just didn't know how to start. Maybe, she reasoned, cutting some patterns in her arm for starters. Something cat-like. Cats. She had always taken a strange liking to them. Cats and tigers and lions, three to choose from. She made her choice promptly, her life decision.


She had done it without hesitation. It was understood that this was the current fashion line. But as she twirled a white whisker in her delicate fingers and stared at her transformed face in the mirror, she wondered if, just if, she shouldn't have done it.


She guided her tribute to the Launch Room and smiling gravely, fixed her district token on for her. They sat in silence until the countdown started and she ushered the scared girl into the tube, telling her to look confident, reminding her of her strategy. Then she watched her, trying to tackle and overcome every emotion she had bottled inside her. It just wasn't worth it over a mere tribute. And not a good one as well.

It just wasn't worth it.


She watched as the sponsors lined up to sponsor her tribute. She hadn't expected her to fetch so many of them, but they were there nonetheless, and she watched as the girl received gifts of all sorts in the arena. Gifts of all sorts. She had thought so, but soon realised she was wrong. There were gifts of all sorts, except for one. Knowledge.

And it was the lack of knowledge of plants that killed that girl.


She wasn't good for much more after a couple of tributes. She was sent to work in a fur garment shop where she lived as well. She masked her past well. No one knew her, absolutely no one. They took her products without question. She locked herself up as well, revealing nothing. Never did she merge in conversation with any customer.

Until the fiery Mockingjay came and burned up her hiding place. At least partway. There was much more to what she briefly told them, yes, but at least her cover was half off. That much she knew.

Half off. There was much more to her than just this. Half off, still bearing her secrets and her past.

No one knew or would ever know who she really was.

Absolutely no one.