You all got so lucky! I was on the last paragraph of my POV when my roommate called me away to be a model for her photoshoot. Historia was the first one I got so here she is. All I need now is the six female from Birkarandareader.
Historia Brunby- District Ten female
Pregnancy was nature's prank. Not that I was pregnant. Ew, no! Just pregnancy in general. How icky and goopy it is, and how everyone swears something is pretty that looks like a raisin.
Horse babies were a little prettier than human babies, but the foal was looking pretty ugly at the moment. It was still covered in juice, and only its front legs and head stuck out of Burgoo Queen's butt. Capitolites had weird names for their racing horses. I wanted to name her Clementine.
"Come help us pull," my sister Tina chided. Burgoo Queen was a finely pedigreed horse, which meant she'd been bred every which way to be faster. That must have given her smaller hips, because she was having a hard time pooping out her baby.
"Yuck, I don't wanna touch that," I said, but I joined in. A grabbed a slimy handful of foal and gently tugged. Burgoo Queen swished me in the face with her tail, but it wasn't on purpose. She probably wasn't gleeful at the moment either.
"How's it going?" Our father asked from the prettier end of Burgoo Queen.
"It's almost past the front legs," Tina said. Burgoo Queen pushed and her butt puckered out, pushing the foal out a few more inches. It slid out quicker after that, and its hind legs peeked out of the pink.
"Oh my gosh!" I gasped.
"What?" my father asked.
"It only has three legs!" I wailed. A racing horse with three legs? Ridiculous! We were ruined! Selling the foal was supposed to provide for us for months. No one would pay for a three-legged racehorse! And worse, once word got out that Burgoo Queen was passing on defects, no one would want to breed with us.
"Don't worry," Tina said in an bored tone. "She's just pranking us."
"Oh, there's the other leg," I said, since I was busted. "Never mind." Now would you hurry up and come out? I got stuff to not do.
It was anticlimactic when the foal finally popped out. It sat on the ground in a puddle of goop as Burgoo Queen licked it off, which was nasty.
"You're such a kid," Tina said, referring to my prank.
"Well you're such a grownup," I said. Some people just don't get jokes. If you can't see the humor in pulling a horse out of another horse's butt, I can't help you.
Hlenn Rambutan- District Eleven female
"I am not feeling it today," Nakia said as we picked peaches under a baking sun. Not that we were ever 'feeling it', but it seemed like an especially arduous day.
I started humming a discordant little tune, full of key changes and creepy minor chords. As they came to me, I added in words.
"A peach
A little orb of amber sweetness
A peach
Life and succour around a poison pit
A peach
Deaths-head skull surrounded by golden treasure
A peach
A seed for tomorrow and meal for today"
"You're so weird. But that's why I love you," Nakia said when I was done. I dropped a peach down to her and climbed out of the empty tree. On my way down, something caught my eye.
"Look," I said, and Nakia and I pressed in closer. An empty cicada shell was stuck to the branch, its phantom claws still grabbing the wood.
"It's so cool," Nakia said. "I love bugs." Nakia was the only girl I knew who saw one of those disgusting house centipedes and tried to catch it as a pet.
"Some Natives have cicadas as totems," I said. "They symbolize birth and longevity. They say you're a good communicator if you have a cicada totem."
"Of course," Nakia said. "That doesn't take a wise man." Meaning, of course, that cicadas were loud as chainsaws when they all buzzed at night.
I didn't have a totem, but if I did, I would want a cicada or a bat. From my folklore phase, I remembered both of them symbolized death and rebirth. They were mysterious, nightbound creatures, and I always thought there was more to them than humans could see. My death phase had never really passed. I was still fascinated by morbid or ephemeral things, like the dessicated shell of an insect that still lived somewhere. Maybe it was because there was so much death in Eleven. But then, there was the same amount of death anywhere else.
It wasn't only death that drew me to the cicada. Cicadas made their death into something better. They came out stronger and flew away. I wondered if humans were like that. Every culture had tales of afterlives and rituals. Someday we'd all find out which one was really true.
Historia: brown hair, brown eyes, chubby cheeks and tall for her age.
IMPORTANT NOTE! Okay, I think I misattributed the Eleven male. Here we go again- send one in and he's in! I legit don't even care if you send the same form and gender-swap it.