PART I. BEGINNING.
CHAPTER 3. FESTIVAL.

Hey again. All right, this was apparently ready for publishing a couple of days ago, so sorry for any wait that was unnecessary. And I've started on the next chapter, so it should be out soon. :) Hopefully, that redeems me with you. Anyway, prepare. You're about to meet a very, very important character and his family/friends.

~BTCS~

The rest of the scouting trip passes quickly. The coyotes do not bother us again, despite the fact that we know there must be more, watching and waiting. The Crescent Moon Troop has placed itself on the top of the food chain once more. Lore credits me on saving his life by distracting the coyote. As I have pointed out more times than I care to count, he has saved my life on more than once occasion. We are equal on this ground. Everyone in the troop is.

We find the despised lake the day after the coyote attack. It's fairly large, though we can spot the end while standing on the banks. We chart carefully what we suppose to be its range, and head in the opposite direction of it. No one will want to cut trees near the lake - the ground there is not stable and the trees are scrawny and fewer. A few miles away from the lake, we find the forest once again crowded and lush.

We play Branchball a few nights, when we aren't so tired. One night, I team up with Lore, Johanna, and Trew. Johanna actually manages to snag the smaller ball from Kri, winning us the game. Even though we all know it is because Kri is a miserable Branchball player, we laugh and congratulate her on it the rest of the trip. Johanna's face shines the entire time, and I know that she's remembering what I said to her by the fire, "If you do well at Branchball, there's a good chance that you'll make it home and out again." I can tell that she enjoys being in the Crescent Moon Troop, feels comforted by our sense of family. By the end of the week, she's brought down her own rabbit, which is practically a coming-of-age factor for us. She's allowed to eat the entire thing herself. It's probably the most she's eaten in her life.

On the last day, we have looped around the long way, exploring the last length of territory we need to. I have the map, making adjustments and additions as we walk along. I glance at the map, a reliable one by now. My heart swells, as it always does, at the sight of something that we have all worked together to achieve. My pen mixes with Lore, Riccy, Trew, Kri, Lyda, Poy, and even Johanna's. I don't want another of our times together to end.

At the edge of the clearing, we all stop and glance around at each other, faces sad. We all know that the time has come to put back on the masks and to return to the world where Peacekeepers patrol the streets, where people starve, and children die on the television. Lyda's looking at me, and I know that she wants her goodbye hug. I open my arms and she warmly embraces me, her face burying into my chest. "See you, Faw."

"See you, Ly," I tell her, giving her a squeeze and letting her go. She smiles at me.

"Hey," Lore complains. "Don't I get a goodbye hug?"

I laugh and lightly punch his arm; a feat I know would give me trouble with Peacekeepers watching. "That's the closest you're ever getting to a hug from me," I tell him, and he laughs.

I give Poy a hug too, and he pats my back, but we don't exchange words. Riccy, whose arm is still wrapped in bandages and is healing quickly, gives me a smile and a shoulder pat. Kri does a little dance with me, spinning me around, and I smile at him. Trew just smiles. Johanna, I notice, is standing watching us all with surprise. Did she expect this? Did she know that our friendship must end when we leave the forest?

"It has to be this way, Anna," I tell her.

She looks near tears. "But why?"

"The Peacekeepers can't know how close we are," I explain. "if they did, they'd worry about us sparking a rebellion." As I say 'rebellion' something changes in Johanna's eyes. Is it fear? Or eagerness? A flash and then it's gone; too quick for me to interpret.

"Scared of teenagers," Johanna mutters, glancing at me and the others saying goodbye. "Scared of poor, young, desperate teenagers."

"Terrified," I correct her. "Scared out of their wits." Then I smile and pat her back. "Don't worry, though, you aren't loosing us. Now that that," I motion to the crescent moon, pale as a scar, near her ear, "is on your face, you are forever one of us. If you ever need anything, just call on us."

"And there's the Branchball game," Riccy adds.

I jump, not knowing that she was listening. Then I smile. "And there's the Branchball game."

It is in this fashion that we leave the forest as calm and distant shadows, joining the Peacekeepers on the worn dirt rode.

~~BTCS~~

"Will you come?
Will you fly
beneath the crystal sky?"

Creta and Aria smile at me, a flash of white in the darkness. Their eyes still sparkle with relief that I am home, safe. With a small smile of my own, I smooth the blanket and give them eat a kiss on their foreheads. "Goodnight, my nymph, my sprite."

"Goodnight, Sparrow," they reply in unison. Creta adds, "I'm glad you're home. I don't like it when you're gone. Mamma always worries so much..."

My heart twisting with regret for their worries, I smooth her hair back. "I'm not going anywhere, Sprite."

Aria's bright eyes blink at me in the weak moonlight streaming through the holes in the wall. "Yes, you are," she accuses. "you're going to see Web."

"Yes," I agree. "but I'll be right back. I promise. I'm only going to take him some rabbit." They nod, but don't allow me to leave until I swear that I will be quick about my errand. With several more 'goodnight's, I duck around the curtain and into the main room.

My mother glances towards me from where she sits, witling down a piece of stray wood. I glance at it. It appears to be a small bird in the making. "Visiting Web?" she asks.

I smile and nod, grabbing a woven basket and place a rabbit leg inside it. I steal another glance at my mother's slouched, tired form, and my heart aches. Despite my help, she still has to work day and night to support us. And Aria, too, has to work too often. If I had money, I'd make sure that they both never worked a day in their lives again.

I give my mother's shoulder a pat. "Don't wait up for me. I'll be fine. You need the rest." She nods, though I know she won't sleep until I am home.

Pulling on my patched and frayed cloak to protect from the chilling wind, I sweep out of the house without a backward glance; into the woods. My stride is confident, fueled by the reassurance of the knife sitting in the basket beside the rabbit. Let coyotes attack me now. They'll get the last and greatest surprise of their life.

It doesn't take me long to reach the isolated clearing where Web has set up his shack. Predictably, the old man is sitting in the grass, gazing up at the stars. Wordlessly, I join him, gazing up at the crystal. Some believe that the stars are our ancestors, calmly watching, waiting for us to join them. Others believe that the ancestors are the trees, still helping us by providing our livelihood.

"You are back," Web's slow, old voice comments.

I nod, replying slowly as well. "I am back." Our gazes do not leave the crystal.

"The girl, Johanna, is fine." It is no question. I haven't a clue as to how Web knows, but I don't question him. Web is one of those people you can't surprise because he seems to already know everything there is to know. So I simply respond, "Yes."

A long moment of silence passes before Web turns to face me. His dark eyes meet mine and he gazes into them as raptly as he had the stars. Finally, I blink and hand him the basket. "It's rabbit."

Web nods and accepts the basket. I wonder if he has been given fresh meat for the week I was gone. Web is valued for the entertainment he gives Sawdust in his stories and songs. WE feed him to keep the entertainment alive, but some are jealous of his easy life. Many people struggle to catch meat, too, so Web normally depends on me for a constant supply of food. I could sell the food I give him for a good price, but I find Web and his words fascinating. The official papers in Redwood are yet to be signed, but Web has asked me to be his apprentice, and I have accepted.

So far, being Web's apprentice has been dull. In fact, little has changed between us. I bring food, Web speaks little to nothing. He has, however, chanted the story of Paul Bunyon to me upon occasion, and I am currently in the process of memorizing it. It begins, "Have you ever heard of Paul Bunyon/A man oh so tall/With an ox as blue as the sky?/Old Paul Bunyon, he could stretch as tall as the sky/the big blue sky was the color of his ox/And Paul could stretch that high." And it goes on to tell of how many trees Paul could cut down with a single stroke, how he gave to the poor, and scorned the Capitol. He was loved by everyone in District 7, and the other districts as well. However, tragically, his only son was reaped and died in the Hunger Games. Paul, distraught, soon died of depression.

All of the stories end sadly like thus to keep Peacekeepers happy; to remind the listeners of what happens to those of us foolish enough to defy the Capitol. But inside our own heads, we all have our own happily rebellious endings.

"Web?" I ask. "Part of being an Entertainer is making up new things, right?"

He answers after his predictable pause, "Yes. Like that lullaby you made for your sisters." He hums a few bars of it, and I smile and join him. "Do you have an idea for a story?" he wants to know.

I shrug. "I do have something, but it may not be very good. I cannot think of a good ending that will please me and the Peacekeepers." I pause, knowing that Web will wait for me to go on. "It is set to song," I tell him, and begin it.

"Once upon a time so near
My memory remains clear
Of a girl, dark and fair;
Of a boy, bright and tough;
She brave and stubborn,
He kind and loving.
The two made for each other.

"They never spoke
Only stole
Glances from afar.
She love her sister;
He his art.
She was starving, she was grieving
for a father lost.
He was unhappy,
Sick of stealing
Glances from afar.

"Secretly, he gave her food.
She ate and did not starve.
Her sister fed, and by the bread
They did not starve.

"She began to steal
Glances from afar
As he had all along.
Though never did their gazes meet
Until fateful Reaping Day.

"Her sister reaped,
She began to panic,
Volunteered her life, she did,
She volunteered as tribute.
He was chosen,
Chosen as tribute,
A prize for the Capitol,
the both of them,
A tribute to peace.

"He confessed his love for her,
Her pride held her back.
Yet in the nightmare world they dwelled in,
It was in the nightmare that she found
She felt the same way
Though she could not tell him so,
Tribute she was,
Dead she would be,
Pride kept her true feelings
Inside.

"But she was attacked
By those he trusted.
He defended her
And nearly died
As she ran away.

"She plotted revenge
Against those he had trusted
And revenge she got.
While they hungered, they killed her helper,
A girl who could sing,
Just a girl who could sing,
A tribute to peace,
A tribute to revenge.

"She sought him out
Though he was dying
She was the medicine that he needed.
And slowly he improved.
Still she worried, and nearly died.
Medicine he needed, and she nearly died,
Nearly died to get it."

I clear my throat, letting the climatic notes die in the silence. "I haven't gotten further."

Web is silent for a long, long time. I study his old, bent posture, searching for the right words to describe it. Finally, he tells me, "That wasn't bad, not at all, for your first attempt. It was a good story, which means you must be careful not to let it be rebellious in its ending."

"But how should I end it?" I asked. "I want them both to live, defy the Capitol, and live together forever, but that won't please Peacekeepers. They'll want them both dead."

"Then kill them," We said. He waved away my protests. "My mentor," he said in his gravelly voice, "Once recited the ending he wanted, and he was found dead the next week." My silence spoke my shock for me. "You must be careful," Web told me. "The Capitol doesn't tolerate anything that could even be considered rebellious. They will kill you in an instant, with no regret, and no second thoughts." Suddenly, Web looked vaguely amused. "As they will me, when I decide when my time has come."

My eyes are wide. Web plans to let the Peacekeepers kill him? But that is suicide! "But ... Web ..."

He shakes his head, waving me off. "You'll understand someday, when you have an apprentice of your own. Now, leave me." I search Web's old face for answers, but his gaze has returned to the stars, and eventually, I slip away, back to home.

~~~BTCS~~~

My sisters run with the other children their age, laughing and giggling loudly. I smile happily as Creta makes the wooden bird Mom was carving a few night ago fly. The day is warmer than a week ago - we travel with our cloaks tucked away, and walk freely along the beds with our huts atop them. Somewhere far ahead, a battered old truck slowly pulls the beds forward, and us with them. We are near the back of the line, which means less Peacekeepers, perched in makeshift cabins atop the beds, are in sight.

Mother walks beside me, smiling slightly to herself. Of course, despite the ghastly Hunger Games that we are heading to, this week-long walk is the closest we get to a holiday. I hum the song of the star crossed boy and girl to myself as I walk, wondering where Web walked and with whom. Was he old enough to remember walking to the first Hunger Game, 70 years ago? If anyone could, it would be Web. He was the oldest person I knew of, besides President Snow, of course.

Suddenly, a call came from the front. "Sap! Just ahead! Sap!" and excitement spreads through Sawdust like a wildfire. I turn to my sisters, grabbing Aria and spinning her around and around, not admitting to myself that my excitement is mostly because River is with Sap right now, right up ahead. Aria giggles, "Stop! Stop!" until I put her down. Creta demands that she gets a turn and soon we're both spinning until we fall to the ground, laughing. When the world has stopped spinning, I help Creta up.

Aria is jumping up and down, ecstatic. "Pine Needles is with them! Pine Needles!" And I'm beaming at luck. Lore's sweetheart, Jessica, is from Pine Needles. I shall not be the only subject of teasing tonight in the Crescent Moon Troop.

The beds are beginning to move faster now. I boost Aria and Creta onto the walls of our dismantled hut and they scream in exhilaration as we near where Pine Needles and Sap are assembling their huts, having caught sight of us. We stop just by where the two converge, and we are immediately getting our huts down. Fueled by excitement, Mom and I have our hut up in less than fifteen minutes.

"Fawn! Sparrow!" my sisters call to me, tugging me inside the hut. "Help us! Help us!" Smiling, I take out two of my old Reaping dresses. Both are dirty and fraying, but without holes and still retaining their bright, cheery colorings of red and brown. As I help my sisters into the dresses, even Aria cannot suppress a squeal of excitement. They spin to let the skirts fan out and I applaud them. Mother is laughing and taking the spidery brush out.

Just then, there is a knock on the doorway. I turn, knowing I will see Riccy there. Her arms are crossed, but she's smiling. "Fawn," she says. "You were supposed to come to my hut."

My skin turns pink as I remember the talk about River in the forest. "Oh, right. I forgot." Of course I hadn't, not really. I'd just chosen to ignore it, and it seems Riccy knows that.

"Well, Lyda, Johanna, and I have been waiting for you. And Lore, Poy, Kri, and Trew had mysteriously disappeared in search of someone." Laughter gleams in her eyes and I go from pink to red. Are the boys really talking to River about me?

"Lore is probably out looking for Jessica," I say, faking nonchalance.

Riccy laughs aloud at this, shaking her freshly brushed blonde hair out of her eyes. "He probably is," she admitted, "but he claimed to be looking for River."

"River?" Mom beats me to the response. "River Arbre? The boy that ..." Wisely, she trails off before she can reveal that I speak about him to her. But my cheeks go to scarlet nonetheless.

Riccy seems to have understood what my mother didn't say. She grins, "That's the one, Mrs. Dogwood. Can I steal Fawn?"

My mother's eyes dart to my flaming face and back to Riccy. When she speaks, I think I detect a hint of amusement in her voice. "Of course. I trust she'll be safe in your hands, Miss Wristine Longshadow?"

"It's not my hands you'll have to worry about," Riccy laughs. "It's River's." And she drags a protesting Fawn away.

~~~~BTCS~~~~

"Wow." I glance into the mirror and my jaw literally drops. What the female members of the Crescent Moon Troop accomplished in only 20 minutes is astonishing. I have been transformed from rough and beaten to ... pretty. The dress that Riccy offered me is long, going to my ankles, and the maker had used enough fabric to bunch the skirt at the bottom. The fabric itself used to be a bright green with shining golden designs around the neck and edges, but has now faded to a shadow of the past. All the same, its beauty is still great - stunning, even. Lyda has brushed my hair to no end so that my skull aches, but my hair lies shining and smooth, a simple braid lying over my flat hair, tied back with a rope. When I move, the heavy skirt does too, swaying delicately.

"Guys," I turn to their waiting, eager faces, and cannot help but smile at them. "I ... thank you ... I'm pretty."

They embrace me, their own skirts rustling as they do so. "You're not pretty," Lyda tells me. "You're ravishing - the best District 7 has to offer. River will be blown away."

"The best?" I ask. "When Jessica is around?" but I ruffle her fire-hair affectionately all the same.

"Now, just remember, River's still an enemy in Branchball," Riccy tells me, pulling away to straighten my braid. "We won't play tonight, but I can't have you getting soft on him."

I smile and fake a salute. "Yes, ma'am."

A knock comes from the doorway of Riccy's hut. I glance over and my heart stops. A very awkward-looking River is standing in the midst of Lore, Kri, Trew, and Poy, looking their finest. River's clothes are clean and un-tattered, which is nearly a miracle, considering he lives in a hut like the rest of us. I cannot stop myself form admiring how well muscled he is as he sweeps his long black hair out of his bright green eyes, which find my plain nut brown ones. I blink and tear my gaze away, straightening my skirt.

"Hello, ladies," Lore has his cocky grin on him as he struts into the hut. It's then that I notice a thin, curvy girl in a light brown dress with her arm looped in Lore's. Her skirt is nearly as long as mine, which shows that she is fairly wealthy. The length of a woman's skirt is important in District 7, especially at a wedding. Her long brown hair is naturally wavy, and she smiles at me, giving me a little wave. I recognize that wave immediately and wave back to Lore's sweetheart, Jessica Moonbeam.

"Hello, Mr. Alberry, Miss Moonbeam," Riccy and Lyda say together, curtsying with their shin-length skirts. Johanna does not move, staying at my side. Whatever the reason - that she is uncomfortable being the youngest or having the shortest skirt - I am intensely grateful to her for not partaking in the rest of the troop's foolishness.

"So sorry to disturb," Kri tells us. "but we wanted to escort young River here. We couldn't have him getting lost."

"Speaking of which," Lore interjects, "we did have a long talk with him, Fawn." Lore seems to be waiting for me to comment, but I offer nothing, standing still and silent and studying him. "We have decided that your judgment is sound on this boy. You have our permission to be with him."

There is silence, and all eyes (including River's) are on me. I blush beet red, and cry, "Lore!" in my most indignant voice, and the Crescent Moon Troop bursts into laughter. Even Jessica and Johanna chuckle. Using their laughter and momentary distraction, I offer River an apologetic smile. He beams back, all signs of awkwardness gone.

"The festival will be starting soon," he tells me. "will you come with me?" He stretches out his hand. Amid the troop's laughter, I accept his hand and, in a rustle of skirt, we leave without further comment.

As soon as we are out of hearing distance, I apologize. "I'm so sorry. They just like a good laugh."

River is beaming at the troop, my words, or maybe just being with me. I know my smile is caused by the latter. "It's all right," he reassures me. His voice is warm and high, but not too high. Perfect. "Our troop is like that, too." At the mention of his troop, my eyes fly to the swirling mark just above the bridge of his nose. Sap's troop's identification mark.

"I'd like to meet your troop," I offer meekly, wondering how he will respond. "Mist Troop, right?"

"Right." He looks genuinely pleased that I knew. Stopping, he lets go of my hand to touch my own mark gently. "Crescent Moon Troop, right?" I can't seem to breathe, so I just nod. His hand rests on my cheekbone a moment longer before he withdraws it, looking embarrassed. "Sorry." His tanned and toned skin is blushing.

I find my voice. "It's all right." A grin creeps onto my face as humor takes over. "The troop's permission has been given."

River smiles and regains possession of my hand. "And your mother and sister's as well." I turn a new shade of red. Then, conversationally, he asks, "Would you like to meet my family?"

My hand automatically clenches in worry, but he's smiling. "All right," I manage. "Yeah. I'd like that very much."

He smiles and squeezes my hand reassuringly, pulling me behind a lone tree for privacy from the excited crowds. His hand cups my face again and I'm staring into his bright green eyes. "Do you remember when we first met?"

"Of course I do." We were both only 11, new to the troops and on the young side for even trainees. Sap and Sawdust were travelling together to Redwood for some long-forgotten reason. Naturally, one night, the troops got together for some friendly competition of Branchball. As the smallest, River and I were typically at the top-most branches. We were, therefore, in constant war with each other until River tagged me, and I was out.

His voice brings me back from the past. "I knew that day that the bird-girl flying around the treetops was the one for me."

"That day?" my voice is rough and, suddenly, I wish that I could afford matching slippers and jewelry to go with my dress instead of bare arms and work boots hidden under my skirt.

"That day." He confirms, and kisses me on the forehead. It's not much, but it is enough to make my body become engulfed in an inferno of feeling.

"I've missed you, River." I realize aloud.

Glancing up, I see his infectious grin again. "I've missed you, too, Fawn. Now, don't you worry about meeting my family. They'll love you. Everyone does. You're irresistible."

Irresistible? I am merely pretty. River must be delusional to think of me as irresistible. All the same, I blush and stammer out my thanks like a fool. Grinning again, River takes my arm and leads me to a hut set up nearby, knocking lightly upon the doorway.

Inside, a slightly older man is speaking with a young couple. Both of the men show distinct similarities to River, sharing dark hair and green eyes. The woman is round with an expectant child, only a few months away if my eyes do not deceive me. All of them bear the swirling mark that is the symbol of the Mist Troop. Though they are far too old to still be in the Troop, the mark remains as a sign to Peacekeepers that they are likely troublemakers. At River and my own appearance, their conversation ends and smiles are passed around.

The man steps forward first, smiling warmly at me. "I am River's father. Welcome, my dear. Come in."

I accept his outstretched hand, though we do not shake. My other hand is still tight in River's grasp. I find his tight grip comforting. "I am Fawn Dogwood. It's nice to meet you, Mr. Arbre."

He laughs. "Now, I won't have any of this 'Mr. Arbre' garbage. I'm not that old, not yet, anyway. Please, dear, call me Byron."

I smile, stepping into the cool hut, and immediately missing the sunshine. River follows me in. "Byron." I repeat.

Byron motions to the couple. "This is my son, Tyrone, and his wife, Lily." I shake Tyrone's hand, and Lily embraces me before I can stretch my hand to her. After a moment of hesitation, I return the hug, noting her unusually long auburn hair that fans around her like a cape.

"It's so nice to meet you all," I say, returning to River's side and taking his hand again.

Lily smiles gently at me, having that air of tiredness that I heard in my mother's voice while we were awaiting Aria and Creta. "The pleasure is ours to finally meet River's Fawn."

My blush deepens as drums begin to beat together somewhere in the distance. Surely that is where Web is now, with the other few Entertainers, beginning the beat that will call Sap, Pine Needles, and Sawdust to the festival. Vaguely, I wonder if I am expected to meet the other Entertainers and perform tonight, as part of my apprenticeship. I promise myself that I will seek out Web soon and find out.

"Tell us about yourself, Fawn," Byron brings me out of my wonderings. "You are in Sawdust's troop, yes?"

I nod. "I am." Smiling, I tough the crescent moon with my free hand, as though I could feel it. "I live with my mother and sisters, Aria and Creta. And our Entertainer, Web, has offered to take me on as his apprentice." I glance over at River to see his reaction to this last comment. Will he think me lazy? To my relief, I see only pride and happiness on his face.

"And you accepted?" Tyrone seems less happy about my apprenticeship than River.

I nod, meeting his eyes. Please let his accept me, I sent my prayer to our ancestors, in the sky or the trees. "I did." Tyrone glances from me to River, and then nods in acceptance.

Suddenly, Lily laughs. "She'll be a good Entertainer, too! Just look at her!" It is only then that I notice my entire body is moving slightly, keeping time with the drums. I stop immediately, embarrassed, and a laugh rushes through the Arbres.

A knock comes from the doorway. River and I turn to see a group of three boys and three girls. His hand tightens on mine, soundlessly telling me who they are, though I already recognize them. Mist Troop - River's troop. For a moment, Mist Troop and I silently size each other up. Then I stick my hand out to a girl randomly. "Fawn Dogwood."

She glances at me from her shorter frame. Despite her height, I can tell that she is my age or older. After a moment, she accepts my hand. "Elfie."

A tall brunette pushes Elfie aside. "Moxie." She pulls me closer. "Be careful with River. He's a party animal. Don't be fooled by his kind demeanor! And don't let him drink around you." River lets out a cry of protest, and I laugh despite myself. Our troops are so similar that I can't help it. The other girl takes my hand. She has the typical stocky build and prominent nose/chin that is subject to the district and introduces herself as Piper.

A small and wiry boy named Guy warns me that River will take advantage of me, but with a joking smile. The other boys are about 18, dark, and identical twins. They are called Lake and Robin. I smile politely at them, trying to forget our friendly competition from over the years and see them just as River's friends.

Moxie, the one who warned me about River's drinking problems, smiles at me after I have shaken Robin's hand. "I like your dress," she tells me. "It's so ... long. And pretty."

I blush. "Thanks. My friend, Riccy Longshadow, let me borrow it." Of course, they'd know Riccy from Branchball. I attempt to reply in accordance with girl talk. "I like yours, too." The skirt reaches her mid-leg, and is an emerald green.

"Thanks," she smiles. "but you can't borrow it." I laugh in response, part of my mind preoccupied with River, part with the drums' beat, and the last with the conversation. Perhaps River sees this, because he takes my hand and says that we're going on to the festival, so long as no one had any objections. Of course they do not, and we sweep off towards the drums.

~~~~~BTCS~~~~~

An Entertainer has brought out a lute. Its lively, carefree melody has drawn most of the population of Pine Needles, Sawdust, and Sap to the circle of lone trees. The dance is fast, and I join without hesitation, dragging River behind me. "I can't dance!" he calls to me over the drums, the lute, and the rhythmic clapping and stomping.

I smile in amusement. "Anyone can dance!" I reply, joining the line of girls. We twirl and stomp, clapping our hands over our heads several times, establishing the rhythm and a steady pattern. My eyes close, and I let the drumming become my feet, and the lute my arms. My eyes snap open, anticipating the moment we all call, "Hey!" and rush forward to dance around our individual partners as the music quickens. One by one, the boys join us so that we are circling some unseen spot faster and faster until the music gives a flourish, and everything ends.

Cheers rise up above the never-ending, underlying beat of the drums. Yes, the people of District 7 love to dance. No matter that two children of ours are about to die, or that, even now, Peacekeepers patrol all around us. I cheer and laugh with the others, caught up in the excitement and wonder of our festival.

A slower tune begins, and a stringed instrument accompanies the lute. River extends his hand to me. "Will we dance, Lady?"

I smile and raise my skirt so that the tips of my work boots can be seen. "Of course, Lord River." I accept his hand and his other finds my hip. I'm surprised at how strong his grip is as I place my hand on his arm. Then we're slowly moving around.

"River," I say. "tell me about yourself." Because he lives in Sap, I know regretfully little about what he does in his spare time.

He spins me around, his face calm and concentrating, as though he is finding even this slow, mindless dance complicated. "What do you want to know?"

"Oh, anything, really."'

I shrug. "Favorite colors?"

He considers. Typically, anyone in District 7 would reply green and brown, so I am surprised when he says, "Red and purple. What about you?"

"Dark blue and silver. Like the twilight sky." He smiles and nods, perhaps envisioning the sky. "Favorite tree?"

"Willow," he answers immediately. Again, I am surprised. Willow trees are uncommon; we are too far north for them to grow in abundance. But I can see why he likes them. Their long, sweeping branches hide everything inside.

I realize that he is waiting for my response. "Pine," I say "it reminds me of my dad."

He hesitates before asking the forbidden question. "Your father. He's dead, isn't he?"

"Wildfire," I say curtly. "Creta was just a newborn. Your mother. What about her?"

His face darkens like I'm sure mine has. "She died in labor. Little Ivy died a week later."

There is an awkward silence. "I'm sorry." I say

"So am I," Silence. Then, he offers, "what about a family one day? Do you want kids?"

I nod quickly, heart thumping. I know the importance of this conversation and it worries me. "As many as I can afford. You?" He nods agreement and I briefly imagine a home that is ours, full of green-eyed children everywhere.

"Fawn?" His voice is sudden.

I glance up and meet his eyes. "Yes?"

He pulls me to the side, away from the dancing. He kneels and my breath catches in my throat. "Your family and friends have given their approval of me, and mine yours," he says, eyes nervous. "Now I ask yours. Do I have your permission to begin our courtship and our lives together?"

My heart is pounding. "Yes," I say before I realize that my word was inaudible. "Yes," I say, louder, "Yes!" He jumps up and spins me around. Our courtship signals only that we are a couple. We are not engaged. We are simply giving each other a chance. And, as we spin around under the crystal sky, I think I know what will come of this chance.