A/N: See author's note for Chapter 17. This chapter is for 6/3/16.
The outermost Districts are known for their songs. They echo in the mines of Twelve, in the orchards of Eleven, and especially in the lonely plains of Ten. His homeland is gentle and wide, all golden grasses and songs carried high on the wind. He remembers sitting on the porch and singing the day-end song loud enough that his neighbors over a mile away could hear. But Thirteen is gray and craggy and steep and cold and silent, as though the bombs that had destroyed its surface had stolen the voices of the people below. Sometimes he misses his home.