Hi there! The name is DancingSpark but you can just call me Sparky. This will be my first fanfic ever so please be gentle with it... It's my baby! T^T Anywho, I just wanted to say that this story was given serious inspiration by the Hunger Games. I've rated it T for later chapters (if you've read the Hunger Games, you know why). And I'm just going to throw it out there now for you all to hear: Final Fantasy VII belongs to the almighty Square Enix. Under all my rights I claim the story as MINE. So read and enjoy this story! LET'S MOSEY.

War Arithmetic

Both sides claim

numerous enemies have been killed.

Both sides declare

we've suffered no losses.

Nobody understands

the arithmetic of war.

Only the fallen

know the number.

The forest echoed with the sound of songbirds. A warm wind flowed through the trees like a river through the surrounding mountains, stirring leaves from the aging trees into a small dance before falling to the earth. Gentle, golden rays from the late afternoon sun fell from the filter of leaves above onto a small clearing. Tall, lush grass speckled with wildflowers swayed to and fro in the tiny opening secluded in the ancient forest. Suddenly, a long sweet face appeared, pushing its way through the grass as the sleek body of a full grown deer slid between the slender blades of amber grass.

The deer cautiously made its way across the break in the woods. It placed its hooves with care as it tread lightly across the spongy ground. It scented the air with its delicate nose, sensing for any predators that may be afoot. The air was clean with a hint of the flowers in the meadow, no startling scent of a mountain lion, wolf, or other sharp toothed beast prowling the region. As the deer lowered its head to begin grazing, a sudden gust of wind ruffled the animal's fur. An alarming smell slapped the deer in the nose as it looked up, spinning a full 180 degrees by simple reflex before digging into the soft ground with its hooves and dashing off. Just as the deer was about to disappear into the bushes and trees, an arrow zipped straight for the deer… and missed. The steel tip bit deep into the wood of a tree by the deer's chest and the animal bounded away unharmed as a foul oath was hissed from high in a tree across the clearing. A figure dropped from the branches and made its way across the open space, scuffing the dirt with a well broken-in boot.

A large, calloused hand wrapped around the embedded arrow and gave a quick tug, releasing the arrow head from the bark.

"Stupid deer," a young voice muttered. The arrow was gracefully placed back into a quiver on the back of a young human. He was not quite full grown, but he did not appear childish at all. He possessed sinewy muscles earned from hard work. His spiked hair glowed like a golden crown in the sun, casting a warm halo effect around his head. His face had a graceful jaw and brow, yet still came across as masculine. A faint scattering of very light freckles ran over his straight nose and cheekbones. The boy's eyes were his most stunning feature though. In the shade of the trees they appeared to be calm blue-gray, but in the direct sunlight they sparkled with sapphire, ice, and sky.

I live at the edge of the Nibel Mountain Range. My home lies between two mountains that end the chain of giant hills. It's kinda secluded, but… the villagers like it. I don't mind it myself. The trade routes follow a dirt path along the valley or down the river the flows a mile away. The halfway points up the mountains are blocked from easy travel, but I manage to sneak through every now and then.

The boy emerged from the dense undergrowth of the mountain top, jogging up to a large fence. Steel poles shot twenty feet into the air from out of the earth. Strong cables ran across the lower half while barb wire ran across the top. A yellow warning sign labeled "HIGH VOLTAGE" hung from one of the cables. The boy walked up to cables and slipped between them before darting to the forest again. He glanced up at the sky before increasing his pace.

Don't want Mom worrying about me. She said a caravan was supposed to be coming through town soon…

After another thirty minutes of his light run, the boy spotted a path and headed toward it. He had left his bow, quiver, and hunting knife back on the "forbidden" side of the fence. His hand dropped to a small pouch hanging from his belt.

Sure hope the socialites like blackberries 'cause that's what's on today's menu.

The boy emerged into a small town. The word "town" almost didn't make the cut. There were hardly any buildings, save a grocery store, a post office, and an inn. A quarter mile down the road was a small cluster of fancy houses. This is where the boy was making a beeline to.

He approached the steps of the first large house. It was large to him anyways; it was a two story that had a porch with a balcony overhead. He raised his hand to knock on the white washed door, steeling himself as he rapped his knuckles on the wood once, twice. A muffled shout of "One second, please!" could be heard through the wood.

It's been a second, thought the boy sarcastically. The door opened and an older lady in an extravagant dress peeped from inside the house. Her make-up caked face lit up when she saw the boy.

"Oh my! I wasn't expecting to see you here this early in the day, my boy! You usually come here right at sunset, am I right?" The lady chattered with an overly bubbly tone of voice. In his mind, the boy was annoyed by it, but he kept his face a straight emotionless mask as he waited for her to finish.

"There's a caravan coming through town tomorrow, Ms. Sherley. I can't miss it," the young man huffed impatiently.

"Oh, that's right! You and your mother have some business to attend to with them, don't you? Let's hope they're from the capitol this time, eh? I could use some more perfume and chocolate because, you see, my stash is running quite low! Also, I could restock on some sugar because the stuff I have is getting a bit old, I think. Ah, before I forget! You have some nice little treats you want to sell, right? What have you brought this time, my boy?" By this point the young man was ready plug his ears with beeswax. But at the mention of selling, he immediately paid attention.

"Yes, ma'am. I have plenty of blackberries. There aren't any blueberries, unfortunately."

The socialites always love a little "treat" from the forbidden areas behind the Fence. They know exactly where the berries and nuts I bring are from since all the bushes on this side of the fence are mobbed by slum children the second the fruits appear. But, since everyone loves to spoil themselves, they keep their mouths shut about where they get their berries. No one wants the little berry finder to be caught by the Caps and hanged.

The boy walked away from the houses, only a small handful of blackberries left in his pouch. On the bright side, he had pocketed a nice little bit of gil for his troubles. He made his way deeper into valley as he headed home.

Because our village is nestled between the last two mountains of the Nibel Mountain Range, you only have to go so far before you reach vast flat land. Generations of farmers have cleared the flat lands of forest to make space for crops. But, there was only so much nutrition for the plants in the soil, and after years of planting, the dirt was worn out. There became an excess of cleared plains, but nothing to do with it. My village now manages some livestock out there. The pastures and crop fields are rotated every few years to give the soil a chance to rest. But tending livestock is not our greatest source of jobs and profit. Here at the foot of the mountain range, a spring of some natural energy source from deep within the earth comes to the surface. I've been told that it's called mako.

The boy finally arrived at his destination after another thirty minutes of walking. A small cottage sat at the beginning of a clear stretch of land without a tree in sight for miles. A wooden fence created a large pasture. A small barn created an opening to the pasture. The boy swerved off the dirt road and walked to the barn. As he entered, he was met with a chorus of neighs and nickers. Graceful heads and swan like necks arched over stall doors as he walked down the aisle of the barn.

"Dinner time, everyone!" the boy called out to the horses. "Ladies first." The three mares in the barn all watched the boy like a group of hawks as he grabbed a few flakes of hay and tossed them into each stall. The horses tore into the hay, yanking out mouthfuls before chewing contentedly.

Once all his equine friends were seen to, the boy left the barn, closing the door quietly with a tiny thoughtful smile playing on the corners of his lips. He then turned and made his way to the cottage before removing his boots and stepping inside. A woman with a long ponytail of blond hair sat before a fire knitting a pair of pants. As the boy entered she looked up and gave a giant smile full of life and natural cheerfulness.

"Welcome home, Cloud."

Yes. I'm home.