Hey guys! How's everyone doing today? Hope things are going well for everyone and if not, I hope this story can lift your spirits up even a little despite the fact that this is a Hunger Games fic and not something more bright and uplifting.

Anyways, I enjoy any comments, except for those that are just full of negativity and not constructive at all. Just give me something to work with instead of just "It's bad." I also appreciate positive constructive criticism since I'm always looking to improve my writing and storytelling capabilities.

Thanks for continuing to read this story! Virtual hugs and cuddles to y'all.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunger Games, that still belongs to Suzanne Collins, except for any of OC's, worldbuilding, and plot points not in the books or movies. Thank you and please do not sue.

Warning: No beta, we die like Rue.

Chapter 1: Months of Change

It's been a rough few months for Cato.

Well maybe rough was a bit of an understatement if he thought about it. But he usually tried to NOT think about it cause if he did, then the circumstances that lead to said rough year would begin to encroach on his mind and fill his body with the heavy feelings of anxiety and depression.

After all, how does one expect to survive by themselves at the tender age of 10, alone, in a rather large forest, with no sign of civilization for miles, and with the never ending fear of being found by the Capitol thus destroying all of their dad's hard work on making sure they survived while mourning for their dead family.

So yeah, it was a rough few months.

Emotional trauma aside, most of said roughness came from the surviving part.

It was hard figuring out how to survive by himself in a forest. He knew the theory behind it, had been taught all the technicalities in school, and his dad even taught him some tricks.

But District 2 was the district of masonry. That meant rocks, metal, more rocks, and more metal. There wasn't a lot of greenery being cultivated within the district. Even the Victor's Village was only dotted with the occasional trees, shrubs, and gardens.

A lot of his attempts at survival came down to trial and error held together with a quick prayer that he wouldn't die from stupidity.

His first attempt at making a fire ended with a lot of branches being snapped before the sheer force of his frustration finally, FINALLY, created a spark that led to his first warm night in a week.

7-year-old Cato crouched next to his dad, watching wide-eyed as his dad demonstrated, step-by-step how to make a fire without tools.

"The most important rule of fire making is to always have tinder," his dad instructed.

"There are many things that can be used as tinder, such as paper and clothe. But the most readily available items that can be used are leaves, grass, tree bark, and small twigs. Of course, they all have to be completely dry or there's no chance of a spark catching it on fire."

Cato nods as his dad holds up each example of tinder that he had just listed, doing his best to commit the knowledge to memory.

"Once you've got your tinder, place it on the pile of dry branches that you collected," his dad said as he handed some dry leaves and twigs for Cato to put on top of a small pile of branches that they'd collected from the small cluster of trees in their backyard.

Cato carefully places the tinder on the branches as his dad watches in amusement.

"Good," his dad praised, "Now that you got your tinder, here comes the "fun" part."

His dad hands him another branch.

"Let's see if you've got enough patience to start a fire before your mama comes out and makes your daddy sleep on the couch again," his dad says with a wide grin.

Cato giggles as he puts the branch onto the v-shaped notch his dad carved out. He starts spinning the branch as quickly as he can but stops when he hears the back door open.

"What is going on out here?" his mom says as she stands at the doorway like an avenging goddess though the image is a bit ruined by her messy blonde hair and the scorch marked apron tied around her waist.

He and his dad only stare as she registers the scene before her. Not even a second later, his mom pushes her sleeves up and marches toward his dad. She's a woman on a warpath and nothing, not even his sheepishly pleading dad was going to stop her.

"Now now honey," his dad tries to say in an almost pleading tone, "I can explain."

She stands menacingly over them with arms crossed, "Oh? So you aren't teaching our 7 year old son how to make fire?"

"Ummm..." his dad tries to explain, "He has adult supervision?"

"You want to try again with that excuse," his mom says, raising an eyebrow that makes his dad flinch.

His dad turns to him, panicking, "Run Cato!"

Cato and his dad jump up from their crouches and rush towards the house.

His mom shouts after them, "You get back here Cayden Evans or so help me you're sleeping outside for the next week!"

The two laugh gleefully as they rush into the house with his mom stomping after them. It was one of his most cherished memories even though it ended in him being grounded till he was 30 and his dad sleeping outside in a tent till he had groveled to his mom enough to be let back in.

His attempts at getting food weren't really the best either as he didn't know how to make weapons or even traps for hunting and he wasn't confident enough in his knowledge of local plants to gather enough to fill his stomach on a daily basis.

Luckily for him, after a month (based on the number of lines he had scratched onto one of the walls of the cave he now called home), Lady Luck decided to shine upon him and grant him the means of gathering his food.

How you might ask? By stalking a grown man and his young daughter.

Now this might sound like the set up for a restraining order but Cato employed his knowledge of moving unseen and unheard that he had spent years refining just to get that extra cookie behind his mom's back or to get away from that jerk Kai who always seemed to know when he was hanging out with Clove.

He had first stumbled upon the pair when he decided to spend the day exploring, hoping he could find a berry bush or some edible plants beyond the area near his cave.

While wandering around, Cato heard the sounds of people talking. Instead of giving into the paranoia of potentially getting caught by any Peacekeepers who for some reason decided to come out this way and running away like he should, Cato watched his steps and moved towards the sounds. And boy was he glad that he did.

"And these clusters of plants here will grow Wild Strawberries in a few weeks," a deep male voice said, "So make sure to remember what these flowers look like in case you come across more."

"Okay daddy!" a young girl's voice responded.

Cato peers out from behind a large tree and sees a lively meadow with a lake nearby. Crouching near some clustered plants with flowers, was a tan, brown-haired, and grey eyed man that looked to be about his dad's age patiently instructing a young girl with the same complexion as him.

A pang of grief shoots through his heart. The smile, the patience, the general aura around the man as he looks down at the girl reminded Cato too much of his dad.

"How many weeks before we can pick the strawberries daddy?" the girl asked.

"Hmm. Let's see," the man jokingly contemplates as he looks through the leather bound book in his hand, "It's been about 2 weeks since we saw the flowers bloom so according to this book-"

The man holds the book out to the girl who excitedly reads it's contents, "That it will be ready in 2 to 4 weeks!"

The girl pouts, "But that's so long daddy. I want to pick strawberries and give'em to mommy now!"

The man laughs and lifts the girl up, making her squeal in delight.

"How about you and I go swimming and catch us some fish instead?" the man suggests, "That should make your mother happy enough till these berries finish growing."

The girl continues to pout, "But daddy...we had fish last week too."

The man puts her down and smiles indulging at her, "Well we can also go hunting too. It's about time I teach you how to use a bow anyway."

The girl cheers.

"But that'll have to wait until your older, say maybe your 9th or 10th birthday," the man says, "I don't need your mother on my case about teaching you something dangerous when you're still too young."

The girl boos.

The man smiles, "Come on Katniss. Let's go get your mother that fish."

The two wander off to the lake, leaving behind the leather book. When he knows that they're distracted enough catching fish, Cato darts from behind the tree and towards the book.

He picks up the book and flips through it, amazed at the extensive knowledge of edible and medicinal plants that had been lovingly hand drawn and written on the worn parchment.

Cato gets lost in the pages as he tries to absorb the knowledge, memorizing pictures and descriptions as quickly as he can.

"Alright! I think that'll be enough fish to last us for the next few days," the man said.

Cato panics and turns to see the man and girl pack up their load and start to make their way towards him. Thankfully they hadn't seen him yet but he wasn't taking any chances so without a second thought, Cato books it as quickly and quietly as he can to the trees.

He doesn't stop running until he reaches his cave and slumps against the rugged stonewall. After catching his breath, Cato opens his eyes and realizes that he was clutching the leather book in his hand.

'Oh shoot!' he thought, 'I didn't mean to take the book!'

Cato began to panic again, wondering if he should go back to the meadow and drop the book off somewhere where it could be conveniently seen. But after thinking for a bit, he realized that he needed this book if he was going to be able to survive, especially when winter hit.

'I guess it can't be helped,' he thought, 'I'm sorry but I really need this book. I hope I can make it up to you someday.'

Cato went to sleep that night with his burden lightened now that he had a tangible guide on how to survive, never knowing that the man had spotted him running away before working to placate his daughter that he would make another guide to teach her with.

That guide had been great help in alleviating the stress that Cato had burdened himself with when he tried brainstorming on how he was going to survive. He had been able to forage enough plants and roots to ration throughout the winter period, though he did lose enough weight to start being concerned about how thin he was becoming. Still, what did one expect when all they had to eat for a couple months was berries, flowers, shoots, and roots?

Luck shined down upon him again when Cato decided to venture towards the meadow area again in hopes that the man and his daughter would provide more tools that would increase his chances of survival.

He had chanced upon the man teaching his daughter how to use the bow and arrow. He watched intently as the man went through each motion with great attention to detail, mimicked her father through her stance and actions. She was apparently still too young to use an actual bow.

He must have been very lucky that day as well considering that the man dragged his daughter over to the lake again to point at some white flowers growing along the lakeside, leaving behind the bow and a quiver of arrows.

Without a moment of hesitation, Cato darted out from behind the tree again and snatched up the bow and arrows before rushing away. Again, unknowing as the man watched him dart off before thinking of ways to placate his daughter of the inevitable complaints she'll make after seeing another precious belonging of her father disappear.

Hunting took much time and care to understand, though thankfully the leather book Cato took also had a section on properly gutting, skinning, and cleaning animals and fish. And while he was trying to get the hang of hunting, Cato came across multiple traps and resolved to both study and steal from them until he could build his own. After all, he had a promise to fulfill and he was pretty sure whoever was building these traps could live without one or two rabbits.

His snatch and learn approach totally worked until his luck ran out and he got caught.

Cato tried his best to study and memorize the intricacies of the trap lying before him. He was tempted to just take the whole thing and study it in his cave but a previous attempt at doing so dissuaded him from trying again.

The less said about what happened, the better.

Anyways, Cato was doing his best to memorize the surprising complicated trap before him. It looked simple. Just a bunch of branches with some rope looped around here and there. But the mechanisms upon closer examination were actually much more complicated and it wasn't like he had anything to write down how a loop in the upper right corner led to a peg in the lower left corner, etc. etc. Still, he had to try or else whoever's been building these traps would actually start to hunt down whoever's stealing from them aka him. And he did not want that to happen.

Unfortunately for him, it did.

"Who the hell are you!" a voice shouted from behind him making Cato jump almost a foot in the year and nearly land on top of the trap.

"Umm...Uhh..." was his intelligent response as Cato whirls around to see a young boy, probably around his age maybe even older, with a slightly muscular but thin build and the same tan skin, grey eyes as the man and girl from the meadow.

The boy advances towards him scowling, "Are you the one who's been stealing from my traps?"

Cato scrambles for a response but can't as the boy gets up in his face. He can only stare as the boy's steel grey eyes seem to pierce through his body and stare down at his soul. It makes him feel slightly hot as heat builds up within him from the embarrassment of getting caught. The fact that the boy managed to catch him unaware makes him both want to get to know this boy better and hide in his cave for the next century and not come out till he was sure no one, especially this boy, would ever be able to find him. Right now he was leaning more towards the latter option.

With all the false bravado he can muster, Cato demands, "Well who the hell are you?"

The boy bristles like a wet cat, "I'm the guy these traps belong to!"

"Guy? What guy? I only see a kid here."

The boy stomps like a petulant child, "Well you're a kid too aren't you? Now stop stealing my traps! My family needs the meat!"

For some reason, the word family seems to trigger some reaction within Cato. All the negativity that he had spent the past few months crying out came gushing forth again.

"Well I need meat too! Do you even know how hard it is having to live out here by myself for months?"

The boy pauses and really, really looks at Cato who's furiously rubbing at the tears welling up in his eyes.

The boy loosens up but not enough that his suspicion cleared. Just enough that his expression changed from accusing to understanding and pity.

Which immediately erased any embarrassment or negativity Cato felt cause god, he hated being looked at with pity.

"I don't need your pity," Cato spat out at the boy.

The boy holds his hands up in surrender, "Whoa. I wasn't trying to pity you. Is that what it looked like?"

Cato glares.

The boy sighs and rubs the back of his head with a look of contemplation.

He holds his hand out, "My name's Gale. What's yours?"

Cato looks at the hand in suspicion before tentatively shaking it.

"It's Cato," he responds.

The boy, Gale, smiles. He crosses his hands behind his head and relaxes his posture.

"So Cato...what're you doing living out here in the forest? I don't remember seeing you around the District or hearing about any runaway kids."

Gale pauses and places a hand under his chin in a thinking pose, "Then again, you look like Townie. But what's a Townie doing here? Finally slumming it like us lowly Seam folks?"

Cato just looks at Gale in confusion, "Townie? Seam? What's that?"

Gale stares at him in shock. Then that shock turns to suspicion.

Cato continues to be confused.

The suspicion turns back to shock.

"Wait. Seriously?" Gale asked, "You don't know what the Seam is? Or a Townie?"

Cato shakes his head.

"Where are you even from? Are you from another District? Did you grow up here in the forest?" the last question was asked with some giddiness.

Cato just shuffles his feet, glaring down at his beat up shoes.

Gale's expression softens as he slowly connects the dots, "Hey. I'm not gonna rat you out to the Peacekeepers if that's what you're worried about. Heck, they don't really do anything except laze about and eat our food."

Cato smiles at that. The thought of Darrien lounging about on a chair, fat and unable to get up comes to mind but it quickly disappears when the memory of what Darrien comes back and sours his mood.

He looks up at Gale who looks so encouraging and hopeful. He sighs.

"I'm from District 2," Cato says, Gale visibly jolts at the answer, expression starting to turn sour before turning confused.

"What's a kid from 2 doing in the forests of 12?" he asks.

Cato shifts uncomfortably before answering, "My family was killed by Peacekeepers cause my dad didn't want to send me to the Academy."

"The Academy?" Gales asks, "You mean the Career Academy?"

Cato nods. Gale looks thoughtful.

"Why didn't your dad want to send you there? I thought all the kids in the upper districts wanted to be careers in the games cause of the glory," Gale spits out the last word, his opinion of the Careers and the Games abundantly clear.

"I thought so too. But then my dad talked to me and now I don't want to. He told me that he used to be like that too, wanting to win the games and all. But after he won, he realized that there was no glory in the Games. Only the struggle to survive," Cato responds, "He said that even though people can win the games, they never actually really win if that makes sense."

Gale hums, "Not really. But if your dad didn't like the games then that means you're alright."

"Thanks?"

Gale smiles and slaps Cato on the back, "I like you Cato. Do you want to be friends?"

Cato looks at Gale with suspicion, "Friends?"

"Yeah. Friends."

"What are you getting out of it?" Cato asks.

Gale looks startled, "Huh?"

Cato crosses his arms and glares, "Why do you want to be friends? Not even a second ago, you looked like you wanted to attack me when I said I was from District 2."

Now Gale is the one who shifts uncomfortably, "You just seem like a cool person. It also doesn't hurt that you don't want to be a Career tribute."

Cato continues to glare.

Gale throws his hands up in exasperation, "Alright fine. If you really want to be like that then how about I teach you how to make traps and get food and in return, you teach me all you know about living in the forest. Deal?"

Cato stares as Gale stretches out his hand to shake. He looks up and sees Gale's grey eyes look pleadingly at him. His resolve starts to crumble. He has been feeling lonely lately. Just watching the man and his daughter aren't enough to alleviate his loneliness. Afterall, humans are social creatures. Maybe this will help even though it seems like he'll be getting more out of this friendship than Gale.

"Fine," Cato agrees, shaking Gale's hand.

"Alright," Gale pumps his fist into the air, "I finally got a friend who's my age and not a snot nosed brat like my little brother!"

Cato laughs at that as Gale grins at him.

Well, he made a friend so did his luck really run out? Who knows. He has more important things to think about. He's definitely not thinking about Gale whenever he's making his traps or shooting squirrels to make a more comfortable bed or when he's nibbling on the bread Gale brings every time they meet up. Nope. Not him.

Man, he needs to get out and run into more people if just to have someone else to talk to besides Gale.

Yep. It had been a rough year but there were many instances sprinkled throughout that made it much more bearable.

The book and its life-saving knowledge of plants and animals.

The bow and arrows and the skill it granted Cato that he greatly enjoyed.

The traps and the companion, no, the friend, he had made from them.

And even the memories as he watched the man and his daughter. Each interaction turning the mourning grief that hung heavy in his heart into bittersweet longing that weighed less on his shoulders.

Cato was content to live out the rest of his years, however many there may be, in that forest with only Gale and the man and his daughter for company.

He should have known that it wasn't going to last.

Man, I had such a headache trying to figure out timelines and the ages of when all these things happened cause there aren't that many canonical ages of the characters available and I just realized after writing the first draft of this that there were so… Rip. Also, why is it so hard to find the motivation to write? Like, I already have the whole thing outlined and I know what I want to write but I just don't really feel like writing it most of the time. Whelp, I'm trying to start some new habits and shake off old ones. Finally getting to those New Years resolutions though at least. Better late than never!

Again, apologies for any grammar errors. If anyone noticed any mistakes, please let me know. Please review and comment on what you liked, if there's anything you'd like to see, or if there's anything I can improve on. Thanks for reading and continuing to support me despite my super scattered writing schedule. I hope you y'all have a great day!