Sixteen days.
At this point, sixteen days have passed since the start of the 74th annual Hunger Games. Hiding in the shadows, the elusive Foxface watches as her fellow tributes are slowly picked off one by one. From Cato's brutal approach to violent bloodshed to Katniss' cunning ability to outwit her opponents, Foxface was there to watch acts of human desperation unfold before her while the other tributes remained none the wiser.
Despite her inability to fight, Foxface has managed to outlive most of her fellow tributes without having to shed a single drop of blood. Her understanding of botany allowed her to survive off foraged food, and her stealthy nature allowed her to do so without being spotted.
With only three other tributes remaining, perhaps Foxface actually has a chance of winning the games. At no point in her time as a tribute, from the reaping to the training to the actual, did she ever think as though she had an actual chance of winning, let alone surviving this long.
For the past day, Foxface has been trailing Katniss and Peeta, the opposing tributes from District 12. From this distance, it is hard to make out what the two are talking about. But from what she gathered, they have decided to split off.
Deciding on a whim which of the two would be most strategic to follow, Foxface decided to trail Peeta. Although Katniss has shown that she has no intention to fight unless it's in self-defense, Peeta posed less of a threat. As an added bonus, if Cato decided to show up, Peeta's injury would slow him down and give Foxface enough time to escape.
With no other sound in the forest but the wind whistling through the trees, Peeta pathetically stumbles and limps around as he tries to collect various nuts and berries. Baffled, Foxface wonders how a loser like him survived this long. At this rate, Cato was bound to show up with everything, thus fumbling about and fidgeting.
A while had passed, and Peeta had laid out his findings alongside the food he and Katniss had beforehand. After counting the inventory of supplies, Peeta shook his head in disappointment before wondering off once again. Not wanting to miss a chance at free food, Foxface hastily scurried towards Peeta's supplies.
An apple, some rolls, a bit of cheese—Foxface rolls her eyes at the inventory. This is everything they started with before he started foraging. What has he been doing this entire time? She understood why Peeta was disappointed. If she spent as much time as he did collecting almost nothing, she would be disappointed in herself too.
As a saving grace, with this term being used as generously as humanly possible, Peeta was able to collect a handful of new items. Taking a bite out of the cheese, Foxface scanned the newer items: some nuts, some herbs, and... what's this?
A dark berry caught the eye of the elusive Foxface. Atropa maculatum, a hybrid berry that's deadlier than a bullet to the head. Perhaps Peeta's inadequacy may put Foxface at an advantage.
Trying to put the cheese back the way she got it, Foxface knew that her best chance of getting rid of them was that they didn't realize the berries were poisonous. Two more tributes down, and no blood on her hands. Pocketing a few of the berries, she ran off and hid.
She was close. Foxface could almost smell her victory, not through brute force and violence but through cunning and intelligence. Scurrying away from the tributes of District 12, she began to strategize ways to take down Cato. While Foxface doesn't wish to harm anyone, taking down a single tribute with questionable morals may be justified if it means her survival.
As she was lost in thought, Foxface felt a warm presence behind her. While her mind told her to keep going, her body felt like it wanted to stay.
"Behold," a deep Voice spoke behind Foxface. It was not that of any of the tributes; it was a new Voice, a powerful Voice that knows both strength and love.
Foxface turned to the Voice and was welcomed by a Man whose Figure was surrounded by a bright light.
Feeling the warmth of the Figure's presence made Foxface feel like she's floating.
"Who are you?" asked Foxface, surprised at her response. Although she is not mute, she prefers to remain silent. But the Man's presence beckoned her and called her to speak out her mind and her heart.
"I am the Way, the Truth, and the Life," said the Man, "I am that I am, and I have surely seen the affliction of the people of Panem, for I know their sorrows."
Puzzled, Foxface tried to figure out the identity of the Man. She had an idea—an ancient story that she heard a long time ago about a Man. This idea took her aback; she had heard of Him, of course, but she never thought she would ever meet Him.
Looking up at the Man, Foxface realized that she's reaching her head particularly higher than before. It wasn't until she looked down that she realized that she was kneeling before the Man. It truly is He.
"Why are you here?" asked Foxface.
"I am here to proclaim unto thee that thy sacrifice is an indispensable offering for the future of Panem," said the Man, "and thou art to partake of the fruit of mortality and consume the berries of death."
The man pointed to the berries that Foxface stole earlier, making her realize what He is asking of her. Feeling like her heart was being crushed by a fist, Foxface questioned His statement. She did not want to die.
"But…" Foxface started, holding back tears, "Why does it have to be me?"
From the cunning and calculated girl that everyone knew, Foxface became a withering mess. The overwhelming feeling of the Man's presence brought out the vulnerable side of her that she suppressed many years ago.
"Why must I be the one to die? I've made it so far!"
With a gentle smile, the Man looked at her with a comforting gaze.
"Fear not, my child, for thy sacrifice shall not be in vain. As is a single drop of rain, it appears meek and of little consequence. Yet, without it, the earth shall remain parched and desolate. As is a solitary seed, it may be forgotten and buried. Yet, without it, there shall be no tree to bear fruit. Thy passing is but a passing moment on the path to ensure peace for the coming generations in Panem."
Looking, Foxface knows that what he is saying is inevitable.
"Why does it have to be me?"
"Lo, their time to pass shall come along in due time, and peace shall befall you all. But for now, my child, you must follow your destiny."
As she holds back her tears, the Man reaches out to her chin and lifts up her face so they can see each other.
"Let not thine heart be troubled. Has your life not been one of secrecy? Is this not akin to the death of which you are destined?"
Foxface looks up at the Man, with a smile slowly forming on her face.
"Yes," she says hopefully, "I will do this, my Lord."
"Then go now, my child," said the Man, "and may the odds be ever in your favor."
At that last word, the Man ascends into the heavens and fades into the sky.
Foxface takes a final look at the berries before putting a few in her mouth. She chews on them slightly; they are bitter and sweet, accompanied by a warm sensation as she swallows them. She lays on the ground, looking up at the sky. Foxface is at peace. For the first time ever in her life, she does not feel the need to hide.