Hey! This is my first story, so PLEASE, no flames, but advice is welcomed. This is my first fanfic, so advice would be very helpful. This was going to be a one-shot, but than I started typing WAY too much, and I had so much to add, so I decided to turn this into a story. This is in Autumn's (Foxface) POV, and it takes place a little while after the fire. I I get any deaths mixed up, or if I put one event in front of the other, please bear with me. I don't think I'll make a Thresh/Foxface romance, but I might if things go slow.

I'm also making an SYOT, but I plan to get that going soon. I wanted to try making a story, before I started the SYOT. It's called Paying The Price and it's the first Quarter Quell. So if you're bored, and you have character ideas, feel free to send one or two in!

Thank you for reading! Please review if you have some time!

-Jay

P.S- I do not own Foxface, Thresh, The Hunger Games, or any character. All belong to Suzanne Collins.

I was Foxface, the quiet, sneaky, foxish looking girl from District 5 who was killed from eating Nightlock, and introduced the 12 Lovers to the berry that started a deadly revolution. I ate the Nightlock because Peeta 'out-foxed' me. It may have appeared so, but I know you can't out-fox the fox. I was known for my silent tricks by many. The games was the one that took my life.

I sat in the field, playing with a stalk of grain, bored out of my mind. When you weren't fighting for your life, all you did was hide. That got pretty boring, and it can really make you feel like a coward. Than again, I would rather be a coward than a corpse. I heard some rustling, and my hand instantly flew towards the small dagger sitting next to me. I knew it was him by now; I learned his pace, and memorized the sound his feet made when he walked through our field. He was big, and not very quiet at that. I stood up, pointed dagger at him, and he raised his hands defensively, one holding a dagger a bit bigger than mine. He most likely knew how to use it, or at least how to do some damage with it. I wasn't even sure if I was holding mine right.

Allies?" he said quickly and quietly. At the interviews, he didn't mutter more than a word. I eyeball him quickly, analyzing him. Is this some sort of trick? It didn't seem like it. For the next three awkward seconds, I stayed sitting, squinting at him, looking for some reason he would want to kill me. I wasn't a threat, but I clearly had more food than him, from stealing from the 3 Riches. (It's what I call the alliance of Districts 1, 2 and 4) He would be nice to have around, in case someone came wandering in the field armed. I never saw him kill anyone, but I can image he killed at least one person at the blood bath. He looked deadly, and I was scared.

Still holding my weapon tightly in my hand, even though it would be useless in a battle with this bulky boy, I stood up, still squinting. I was a little less than half the size of him. He must be 18, almost 19. I was almost 15, but tall and quick for my age. As I stood, he held his weapon a little closer to him, in case I would be brainless enough to strike. Never, have I ever, been called brainless. I may be on the weak side, and not the most outgoing or sweet, but I certainly wasn't brainless. I wonder if this guy was brainless. He didn't speak correctly sometimes, and he was from 11.

"Why would you want to be allies with me?" I spoke slowly. Really, this was an honest question. He could kill me off right then and there, and be one step close to home. Who wouldn't want to go home? Who would want to let someone else win, when losing meant death?

He shrugged. He looked bigger every time he moved, as if he was growing, or I was shrinking. By now, I was visually shaking a bit. Who wouldn't be terrified for their life with this monster standing in front of me? "Well," he said carefully, "You must be pretty smart. 'Cause you got all that food." He pointed to the pile of stolen berries and food behind me. It looked enough to last one, let alone two, people for awhile. I looked behind him, into his territory, and saw a club, some knives, and some water. He must've been hungry. I can't help but beam when he called me 'smart.' I like being smart. People respect you without fearing you. "And I seen you run. You quick. And, I think we'd make'a good team." I can't help but notice his grammar is a little off, but he's from 11, so it's not that bad. I lightened my glare a bit. true, he wasn't scared of me, but he was scared for his life. Everyone has their fears. I can't help but pity him a bit, and lower my dagger. It's almost funny how anyone could pity Mr. 11. He's got a pretty good chance at winning. I can't even use a weapon. Even if I knew how, it's not like I could use it; I could never kill anyone. Stealing and lying were easier than killing. You can't give someone's life back to them after taking it.

Suddenly, the big guy didn't seem so big anymore. Still, I wouldn't take advantage of that. I smile softy a bit, and motion my hand towards the food, and watch his eyes get a little bigger. "Allies." I said simply. I get this happy feeling inside as I see his face light up at the word. I guess I don't regret anything when I see him look like he was on the verge on hugging me. I felt a pang of feeling when we both drop our weapons at the same time without planning it. He runs towards the food, and who cares if he eats it all; I could always get more. I was a bit surprised when he just hungrily pick up a large apple from the Riches and takes a monster bite out of it. It must taste like home to him, as he smiles lightly while chewing.

"Name's Thresh." he said, swallowing the apple chunk. "You're..." he asks, waiting for me to continue his sentence.

"Autumn." I say, nodding.

"Like the season?" Thresh asked, tilting his head slightly.

"Yeah. I was born in autumn, so my parents named me that." I shrug.

"I like it." Thresh smiled, looking up at the sky, taking a smaller bite of the apple. "It reminds me of home."

It takes me a second to realize why 'autumn' would remind him of home. In District 11, autumn is the time when they work the most. Harvesting, planting, you name it, they were doing it. All through the night and day. I feel a pang of gratefulness, because we didn't have to work nearly as hard as them. In fact, in District 5, you really don't do anything until your 19- old enough to work on mutts. I can image that Thresh had been working all his life, along with his little companion. It's a wonder how she's still alive... Her and both the District 12 tributes. Then again, the Twelvies might've gotten sponsors from the little drama scene they put on at the interviews. You should've seen District 2 faces when the boy declared his love for the girl! If they weren't about to go into an arena with me to kill me at the time, I would've laughed.

We talked about ourselves for the next few minutes, and for once, I felt nice, because I had someone to talk to. I was always one that could never be bored for long, so having someone to talk to made things more bearable for me. Thresh seemed pretty happy about having a buddy too. Why wasn't he helping the little girl? Did he figure she wouldn't make the first day? He seemed to talk highly about her when he talked about the train ride. Her name is Rue, and he says it's a little yellow flower. He's glad she made it this far, but he- and the rest of us- know the girl tribute from District 11 isn't going to be the victor of the 74th Hunger Games.

I disliked my district partner- he was big and dumb. Not as big as Thresh, but pretty bulky for someone from district 5. He didn't know left from right! He thought very highly of himself. What was so great about Adam Bronz? He wasn't memorable, and he didn't know a lot about weapons. He was 16, and he died in the blood bath. Tried to fight Temper Tantrum from District 2. That's what I call him. I tell that to Thresh, and he laughs, and calls him that with me. I was always one to give nicknames to people, because most times, their names wouldn't fit who they are. And honestly, I don't give a crap about the names of the people who are trying to kill me.

We come up with nicknames for some of the tributes still in the games. The girl from District 12 is Fire Girl, and the boy Doughboy. We called him that because he always smelt like bread, and his name was some kind of bread, but we forgot. Whole Wheat? Rye? Together, they are the Twelvies. One Leg is the name of the boy from 10, because of his leg. He wasn't going to last very long. I wonder how he made it this far! Mermaid is what we call the girl from District 4, because she looks like she could be one. Then there Short-Stuff from 3, Temper Tantrum and his girlfriend from 2, and the Blondies from 1. He says I have a fox looking face, all pointed and stuff, I was a red-head, and I was sly and quick. He elbows me and calls me 'Fox,' and I let the name sink in.

"Not bad..." I say slowly. "Sounds cool. It fits pretty well." I accept the nickname, beaming a bit. Foxes are smart and cool, and so was I. They were quick, and so was I. It's more of a compliment then an insult, and it fits me more than 'Autumn.' That's the beauty of nicknames.

Thresh looks a bit like a bear to me, I tell him, and he likes that too. He says it fits well, and it's a compliment. Thresh is more like a friendly bear, who just wants a friend. He ma look scary, but he's really nice. Nice to have around.

So; The fox and the bear. Two unlikely friends. The Hunger Games can do some strange things to people. Make strange friends of people, drive people crazy, and now, cause romances. If the Hunger Games didn't kill people, or make them go crazy, I'd almost say they were a good thing. Too bad they aren't.