Beneath the Crystal Sky

by laptop246

Fawn Dogwood is 16. She lives in District 7. She is part of a prosperous scouting troop. She has two little sisters. She is learning a trade. She is being courted. She was never meant to be Reaped. "Scout. Sister. Performer. Tribute. What am I, now? Staring into my own brown eyes, I find that I can't tell anymore." High quality. Works very closely with the original series.

4. I CHOSEN

PART I. BEGINNING.
CHAPTER 4. CHOSEN.

This one's coming out a bit quicker. I took the time to write a lot this week, as those who have me on author alert will know :p anyway, this chapter is very, very important as we begin to move to one of our bigger plotline. The 70th Hunger Games. Review or message me, please! Little bits mean a lot. A lot a lot. :)

~BTCS~

Aria's face is oddly serious. Her stride is longer than usual, her spine taller. She wears her school outfit, which she works in when necessary, though it is freshly washed. This morning, she and I found a stream and scrubbed the clothes as clean as we could make them. It was a treat to have running water to do so. Typically, the few thawed streams are guarded by Peacekeepers for drinking purposes only, and whatever other water is needed is thawed from heaps of snow. Not even now, when brown, dead grass is visible, poking through the snow, do we dare bathe in such streams. We all remember the warning tales of frozen children from our mothers.

"Now, Aria," I say to my sister in a very business-like tone. "Don't be nervous. No one's expecting you to win the game for us."

Aria blinks, startled. "Oh, I'm not nervous. It's just ..." Looking embarrassed, she lowers her voice to a near whisper. "Are Peacekeepers going to be around, watching us?"

I feel the pang I always do when Aria acts too old for her age, forced by circumstance to be so. Children shouldn't have to be frightened of Peacekeepers or work hard, cutting down saplings and stacking lumber. At least, I comfort myself, I have insisted that Aria takes no tesserea, even though I have thirty-five slips of paper in the glass ball that Garnish Gleam will pick the tributes out of tomorrow. Mentally, I slap myself. I can't think about this. Not now, in Festival Time. "Peacekeepers are everywhere," I tell Aria carefully. "Especially when the Troops congregate."

My hand is on Aria's back comfortingly when Trew and Johanna appear. At the sight of them, Aria shakes off my hand and straightens her back to that perfect line again. I sigh and greet my troop mates, "Hey, Joey. Ew."

Johanna chuckles at Trew's old, despised nickname, shooting him a teasing glance. "Ew? I haven't heard that one."

"I refuse to comment," Ignoring Johanna and my own laughter, Trew smiles at Aria, clapping her back. "It's our wild card, Aria Dogwood! How are you feeling today, Air?"

Aria and I both grin at her first newly-appointed Crescent Moon Troop nickname. "I'm fine." my sister's easy-going tone is far to mature for my taste.

I nod to Johanna. "How is the festival faring with our Anna, eh? Found any ... dancing partners?"

Unfazed by my teasing, Johanna only shakes her head. "Though, I suppose your 'dancing partner' will be joining us with his troop today, won't he? You won't be going soft on Sap on us like Riccy thought, will you, Fawn?"

"They call themselves the Mist Troop," I say, before I can stop myself. The trio before me laughs.

"Has he begun courtship?" Trew wants to know.

I open my mouth to answer, but Aria beats me to it. "The first night of the Festival. It was very sudden. I suspect he couldn't even bear to wait any longer." They begin to laugh again, and I frown at my sister. She gives me a slightly apologetic smile, and I let the conversation drop.

By this time, we have reached the small cluster of pine trees, nearly thawed by the arrival of summer. Under it is the remainder of the Crescent Moon Troop, as well as most of Mist Troop, Pine Needles, Walnut, and Pinecone's troops as well, the latter of which joined our festival last night, when we reached Redwood. Upon meeting, the Troops had arranged this game of Branchball quickly, so that it can be done before Festival Time ends, and the Hunger Games begins.

Crescent Moon Troop greats us, and I can spot the signs of nervousness in their body language. Poy is tapping his fingers on his leg, unable to deal with the anticipation motionless. Kri is blabbing on and on to Lyda about types of trees, and she isn't able to concentrate on his words. Riccy is finger-combing her hair. Johanna is looking around at the other Troops, unable to expel her look of nervousness. Even Trew's toe is tapping slightly. In fact, Aria seems to be the calmest of us all.

When River enters the cluster of trees, his feet crunching the mostly-flattened snow, he heads over to our troop before his own. My heart fluttering, I wave. He waves back, smiling, and stops three feet away from us. Kri stops talking and Poy's fingers freeze as we wait for him to speak. I'm grinning uncontrollably at the mere sight of him.

"Good day, Crescent Moon Troop," River says to the others, giving the District 7 salute - right hand on his heart, left raised to the sky. It's a sign of respect, and the troop relaxes upon seeing it, quickly returning it. River, still smiling, envelopes me in a hug. After a moment, he pulls away, gazing at my slightly clean, ripped and tattered work clothes. "So this is what you look like normally."

I smile slightly. "Not so beautiful, I know." But you're still just as beautiful, I add in my head.

He shakes his head. "No, that's where you're wrong. If anything, you're more beautiful this way. Much, much more beautiful. Realistic." I grin, disbelief written across my features, but feeling gratitude all the same.

River lets me go and turns to Aria. "And how is Miss Aria doing today?"

"Just fine," she smiles a bit. I know that she like River.

"And I trust your mother and Creta are just fine as well, under your capable and wonderful care?" River smiles back at her.

She nods in agreement, saying, "My care, capable and wonderful as it is, is what is available since you steal our Fawn at every moment that you can." River laughs, delighted by her sense of humor. Aria sticks out her hand, and he shakes it.

"Good luck today," River wishes her.

Aria laughs. "Good luck to you, too. You'll need it." Then River's giving me another hug, and walking off to his own troop. Feeling it is my duty, I stick my left hand in the air and my right on my heart, nodding to the Mist Troop, and they return it. Feeling remotely less burdened, I turn back to find my own troop back to their worrisome habits.

When the teams have all been given their two balls, the small and the large, and the rules have been settled upon (each troop plays a bit differently), we climb into our places in the trees. Someone from Walnut calls out, "Go!" and suddenly, the small balls are whizzing everywhere. Poy, possessing our larger ball, acts quickly, and upsets the branch that someone from Pinecone was on, making it a hard catch for them. Riccy goes after the large ball. My eyes fly over to Aria, who is reaching out to catch the smaller ball. I can tell before it's left Kri's hand that it won't go far enough, and fly through the branches of the trees, just barely catching it. The moment it touches my hand, it is flying to Lyda.

Suddenly, I register movement behind me, and act without thinking, dropping through the branches and onto the ground, like I did the first night in the forest, only nowhere near so high. After navigating my way back up another tree, I see Moxie from Mist Troop looking surprised, right where I just was. Laughing, I wave to her, and she waves back. Of course, the hardest part of this game of Branchball, is being aware of your swiftly changing surroundings. Even as I climb up the tree, I have to dodge three attempts to tag me out.

I stop, panting for breath. Directly above me, someone (I don't know which troop they come from) is throwing the small ball to a teammate. I hold my breath. If they see me, they could easily drop down a branch or so and tag me. However, they seem preoccupied scanning the trees for someone or something. Still holding my breath, I climb up and up, until I'm close enough to reach up and -

"Ah!" the person cries out, glancing down. Now I can see his dark hair and face. I don't recognize him. My hand darts forward, but he's moved slightly. Growling in frustration, I climb up more and reach again. But he's fleeing now, jumping and climbing and maneuvering his way out of the tree. I continue after him, swinging from branch to branch like the demon monkeys that were in the arena last year, soundlessly. Finally, the boy glances around, and that's all the hesitation I need to catch up and bring my hand down hard on his arm. "You're out!" I cry in jubilance.

For a moment, the boy looks stunned, then he smiles. "Nice move," he says. "I'm Quint from Pine Needles."

I nod to him. "Fawn from Sawdust." Now that I think about it, I do recognize him from the dancing. But I'm already looking away, around at the chaos of the Game before me. I'll have to escort Quint to the ground before I can rejoin the game. Sensing my impatience, Quint heads down the trees, until he stops at the foot of one and sits. I nod to him, and he gives me a salute that I don't have the time to return.

I loose myself in the Game. I don't have possession of the smaller ball much. Mostly, I run for the larger one, throwing it to unbalance people and attempting to tag them. I tag two more people before taking a moment to catch my breath. By a glance at the pile of people sitting out, I can see that Riccy, Lyda, Lore and Kri are out. That leaves Aria, Johanna, Poy, Trew, and myself. We have more than the other teams, who are mostly down to three or four. River is still playing, as is Moxie.

A branch moves ever-so-slightly behind me, and I drop. However, I hear the whoosh of someone else following, and reach out to swing on a branch to another tree. My pursuer stops a bit below me, but keeps up well. I mount a branch and climb up, working my way through the smaller, less stable branches. A bulky boy would not be able to follow me. However, my pursuer stays close behind me, and I know that I'll have to be trickier.

I fling myself to another tree, falling to nearly its base and weaving expertly around the branches. Then, with a jolt, I'm climbing back up, and up and up, until I'm at the topmost branches and completely out of breath. Only then do I allow myself to look back and see Elphie and Moxie, from Mist Troop, weaving their way after me. They smile at me, panting as I am, and my heart plummets. I can hardly evade the two of them. Then, behind them, I see a small shape climbing soundlessly. Aria. I don't have to look at her a moment longer to know our plan. I climb swiftly to the end of the branch and glance down to be sure. Yes, there is Poy, ready to catch me.

Trying not to over think the disastrous possibilities of this, I fling myself off the branch, whizzing down past fooled Elphie and Moxie, right into Poy's arms. He laughs lightly and puts me down. "Thank you," I choke out, glancing around. It's dangerous to be on the ground. I duck as a large ball comes whistling by.

"No big deal," he answers, keeping out a sharp eye for more balls.

I see someone dropping, and we quickly begin to climb the tree I just came from. "Who's out?" I pant.

"Riccy, Lyda, Lore, Kri, and Trew," he answers. "That leaves you, me, Aria, and Johanna." I nod and concentrate on climbing. A small wooden ball whizzes to us from a high-above-us Johanna, and Poy catches, tossing it to me. I toss it back, and he returns it to me. We continue this, moving when possible, and keeping the ball safe. Above us, Johanna, Aria, Elfie, and Moxie are evading and attacking each other, but not making contact.

A voice from the onlookers calls out, "Pine Needles' has lost! Too many players tagged!" There can be no less than two on a team. When only one remains, the team is out. Poy and I grin. One team out of the way. Briefly, I think of how disappointed Quint and his team must be, but I push it effectively out of my mind as I catch the ball again.

A moment later, a victory cry comes from above. Then several more. Poy and I watch carefully as the girls drop out of the tree, trying to figure who was tagged. I cheered as Moxie and Elfie sat down, along with my sister, whom I gave an apologetic smile to. She grinned back, motioning for me to play. Johanna came over to us, holding the large ball tight, and I tossed the ball to her with congratulations. She beams as Walnut's small ball is captured by Pinecone, and they, too, are out.

"I'll go try and catch some balls," I tell them, smiling, and they nod, passing the ball back and forth, back and forth. If I get out, they will have a hard time winning. Swinging up to a higher branch, I see that Pinecone only has two left, passing their ball frantically. Mist Troop has three, like us, River, Guy, and Piper. River is approaching the frantic Pinecone Troop, but they keep evading him. I swing towards them, silent as an arrow. As much as I like Mist Troop, they have to loose.

Piper sees me coming and drops, giving Guy a hard throw as he attempts to maneuver down as well. He just evades me, and I make a face, frustrated. I can't startle them, not now. But I can try. I drop, glancing up in time to see River catch Pinecone's ball. The crowd calls this out, and Guy is just distracted enough for me to tag. Piper has not choice but to send the ball flying to River, who only manages to catch it. His face shows surprise that I have come after them, and I melt into the trees, effectively disappearing and maneuvering away, behind Piper. They are both looking around wearily, and Johanna and Poy are watching eagerly from across the clump of trees.

I stop suddenly. Of course, Piper and River would expect me to come after Piper instead of River, or even try to catch the ball. How stupid I am! Their eyes do not even stray to the trees behind River. I slowly, carefully, invisibly, move to behind River. But, as I come in to tag him, he hears me. Of course he does - River's as good at this sport than anyone. He knows he can't flee, so he tosses the ball to Piper and lunges at me. He has to tag me quick, so Piper isn't in possession too long. But I drop, and he can't reach me or catch the ball in time.

It seems to me that the ball falls in slow motion to the ground. I drop again, until I'm flying down beside it. It hits the ground and so do I, my hand closing around it. I let out a great whoop as my finger's touched, as did the crowd as they realized what I'd done. I raised my fist and whooped again. "Crescent Moon Troop!" I cry. The crowd echoes me, even Piper and River joining in as they land beside me.

I turn shyly to them, wondering how River will react. He looks a bit surprised still, but Piper is smiling. She embraces me, and whispers, "If you hadn't done that, I wouldn't have thought you were right for him." I blush and laugh, thanking her. She releases me, beaming, and I turn to River.

He is laughing now, appearing very pleased. "You did good, Fawn. You did very good."

Resisting the urge to correct his grammar, I grin and hug him. "Thanks, River." And then the Crescent Moon Troop and my sister are all around me, cheering and grinning and laughing. We won.

~~BTCS~~

I smooth Creta's hair back from her face. She's wearing the same outfit that she has all of the Festival, but its colors appear drab and plain now, while they were alive and festive all of last night. Her face is tight with worry, just like mine, Aria's, and our mother's. We are all in our best, unhappily ready to leave the house for the square in Redwood where all the ceremonies are held. But this one, the Reaping itself, is the most nerve-wracking and dangerous of them all. Today two children leave. And in two weeks, they will probably both be dead.

Creta's name is not in the glass balls that Garnish Gleam will choose from. She is too young, and will be safe until five years from now, when I have long ago moved out and away, and Aria will be planning to do so. Aria herself is as safe as you can get with only one slip of paper, so I am the real one in jeopardy here, with my 35 slips. Of course, the odds are not entirely against me. Piper, whom I played against in Branchball last night, is the oldest of 9 siblings, and is eighteen. Her mother is dead, and father is badly maimed from a forest fire. She has 98 slips. The odds are entirely against her. Odds are, she or another unlucky person like her, will go to the Capitol tonight. Not one of the Dogwoods.

But all the same, we worry. We worry so much that we do not eat our share of the moose that River, Moxie, Lore, Johanna, and I shot down. We say that we'll save it for dinner, but none of us are fooled by this faulty reasoning.

When the sun is rising high in the sky, River and his family appear at our door, as grim and serious-faced as us. I immediately lace my fingers through River's, finding that odd comfort in the tight squeeze of his hand. We don't say a word, any of us, as we make our way out of the makeshift Sawdust, Sap, Pine Needles, Walnut, and Pinecone, and into the long streets of Redwood. There are three larger towns at the center of District 7, all connecting, but Redwood is the innermost one. It's buildings, which hold the wood processing factories, are tall and drab. In them, people work 14 hours a day, with one half hour break. At night, they sleep on the floors of their stations. I shudder at the thought of living in Redwood. A few years ago, disease ripped through the city, and half of District 7's population died. No, I am lucky to be in Sawdust.

My hand tightens in River's as the anticipation builds. We pass many unfortunate wood processing families, drab and worrisome as us. Their skin is baggy, while ours is toned. Their is pale and clammy, ours dark and healthy. I feel the same pang of sadness I always do when looking at them. Their only hope is for their girls, their daughters, sisters, and cousins, to marry into one of the moving towns and escape. Poy's girl, Bea, lives here. If neither of them are Reaped, they will both be 18, and be married as one of the many in the ceremonies immediately following the Hunger Games. The marriages are always pleasant after the trying time of the Hunger Games.

We reach the square. Aria embraces my mother and Creta, and I release River's hand to do the same to them. "It'll be all right," I whisper to them. "The odds are fine. Just fine." One last squeeze, and we separate. River, having just given similar goodbyes to his family, clutches my hand again. We walk Aria to her pen and she hugs me again. I reassure her, and she wipes away her tears, trying to be brave. "One slip," I tell her. "It's just one slip."

I don't let go of River's hand. We stop at the 16 year old pen. I stop here. River goes up to the 17 pen. I embrace him, shaking with nerves dispite myself. He pats my back. "Hey, hey... shhh... it's okay."

"How - how many?" I ask him. "How many slips do you have?"

I can see him hesitate, not wanting to tell me, but not wanting to deny me. "Only forty-five," he tells me. "Piper has way more - twice..." he's shaking, too, and I'm the one making comforting noises, suddenly. "What about you?" he wants to know.

I have to tell him. "35."

He nods, giving me one last hug. "May the odds be ever in your favor."

"No," I correct him. "In our favor." And then I duck below the rope and disappear, before I can be stupid and begin to cry. I weave my way through the throng of people, but I don't know what or who I am looking for. None of the girls in the troop are my age. But I do stumble across Moxie, from Mist Troop, and wordlessly join her. She nods to me, and that's all we need.

I glance up at the stage where the Reaping balls stand, glistening clear and perfect. My name is in one thirty-five times. Piper's ninety-eight. And Aria's only once. In the other are forty-five slips of paper with River Arbre written on them in clear and perfect writing, just like the Reaping balls and the Capitol's operation. But completely unlike The Hunger Games.

Garnish Gleam sits behind the balls, her back properly poised and legs crossed daintily. She is dressed in light lavender. Her entire being, from the tips of her spotless high heeled shoes, to her swirling tattoos, to the hideous flour pin holding back lavender corkscrew curls, is lavender. It's our first sign of this year's Games' colors. Lavender will be all the rage in the Capitol, but here in District 7, the color will be avoided all year.

Mayor Pines sits beside Garnish, looking thinner than usual, but still well. He cannot keep the look of revoltion off his face whenever he glances over at the Capitol escort, despite the fact that he - they - all of us are on camera, being viewed live in the Capitol. The other seat is occupied by District 7's only living victor, Blight. There had been two other victors in sixty-nine years, but both are dead. One burned to ashes in a wildfire, unlike my father, who died from the agony of burns, and the other fell from a tree and broke his neck. Tragically, neither had any family left to mourn them. Blight's eyes are unfocused, gazing to something on the horizon, and I wonder if he is thinking of the moment when he was Reaped.

Garnish begins the ceremony with a squeal of excitement, speaking of how wonderful it was to be here, and how excited we all must be - exactly like her! She wonders aloud for several minutes who in the crowd would be lucky enough to be Reaped for the Hunger Games. Then she introduces our mayor, and bustles back to her seat, giving him the stage.

Mayor Pine takes his usual slow time getting to the beautifully carved podium where he will speak. His slow steps can be put off to his age or to reluctance to speak and allow the Reaping to continue. Of course, the latter is suspected, but never spoken aloud. Once reaching the podium, Mayor Pine reads the History of Panem in the same way. Though the speech is the same every year, long, and dull, the crowd is completely silent but for those filling out betting slips in the back. Everyone's eyes are locked on the pristine glass balls, wondering whose name would be picked. The mayor finishes, "It is both a time for repentance and thanks," and I think that Moxie, beside me, is suppressing a snort. I wonder how many slips Moxie has, but don't have the breath to ask.

It's Garnish's turn back up on the stage again. She's gushing about the honor and the glory of being a tribute or an escort or a victor or generally having anything to do with the Games. Half the audience flinches at the loud, flaunting sound of her Capitol accent after the rough, soothing cadences of home coming from the Mayor. But I, like everyone else, have no breath. I can only stare at the ball that holds Aria's name, and the one that holds River's and pray. Oh, not them. Not them. Just please, not them!

"You look nervous, gentlemen," Garnish trills. "how about we do you first this time, eh?" and she's bustling to the Reaping ball. The crowd is so silent, I swear I can hear snowflakes blowing by slowly. Even those with betting slips in the back are completely, utterly silent. Garnish lets her hand sink the middle of the ball, fishing around for a moment as though looking for one specific slip, and brings one up. She takes her time coming back up to the podium, and I'm beginning to color from lack of breath. I send up a prayer for River, foremost, and Kri, Trew, Poy, and Lore right along with him.

Garnish opens the slip with never-ending slowness. My heart pounds as she reads it, licks her lips, and clears her throat. No, not them... dear ancestors in the sky or the trees, not them! I'll do anything. Garnish's lips part, and her bright Capitol voice reads the name again, aloud this time. "Raven Carpenter."

I am relieved and shallow enough to let out a sigh while others around the clearing gasp. I notice a girl with dark hair and pale skin has slumped into the arms of a friend, who looks ready to let them both fall to the ground. My mind fills with recognition. He must be a boy from the wood processing factories. When he mounts the stage, his face is expressionless, but you can still see the conflict of surprise and terror around his eyes. But he's attempting to hide it well enough, which says something about his character, I suppose. Perhaps he's not entirely worthless. Last year, the boy cried loudly on the stage and was dead at the Bloodbath.

Garnish smiles at him. "You are Raven?"

He nods, his pale hands lacing behind his back. "I am." His voice is quiet, and he feels the need to repeat himself, louder. "I am." I study his features for a moment, trying to remember this face I will never see in person again after this day. His nose and chin are sharp, skin pale and sagging. He slouches slightly where he stands, and his hair is black as midnight.

The lavender Capitol escort takes Raven's hand and lifts it into the air. "Ladies and Gentlemen of District 7, your male tribute of the 70th Hunger Games, Raven Carpenter!" The crowd claps politely, and Moxie and I join in. Betting slips are passed around in the back, money is grudgingly given up. The girl that has fainted has been awoken and is staring at Raven, eyes empty and soulless. Who is she to him? I wonder. His sister? Girlfriend? Or just a close cousin? Whoever she is, the next few weeks will be difficult for her.

The crowd becomes silent as Garnish announces, "Now, for the ladies!" And, appearing more excited and happy than ever, she trotted up to the girl's Reaping ball. Unlike she did for Raven's name, she plucks the first name she sees out of the ball. The same delay as before follows, as though Garnish is trying to make us all have heart attacks. I pray again for Aria, Johanna, Riccy, Lyda, Piper, Moxie, Elfie ... but, it turns out that I forgot someone. Someone that I care very much about. Someone very, very important.

"Fawn Dogwood." Garnish reads. A moment of silence follows, and then I hear the tell-tale sound of Creta crying. Moxie glances at me, eyes wide with shock and surprise, before she carefully masks her expression. Following her lead, I do so as well. No, more than that, I put a wall up to separate me and my emotions that might ruin everything from my body. I feel entirely disconnected from myself as I make my way away from Moxie, my family, and the others, through the path that the girls have created for me, and onto the stage beside Garnish and Raven.

Garnish has that horrible, horrible smile on her, and I can see that her teeth and lavender as well, and have tiny jewels swirling around them in a design I cannot seem to look away from. "You are Fawn Dogwood?" the words seem to slow, the lips moving too slow, and my response, too, is too late.

"Yes, I am Fawn." Emotion threatens to spill over the wall I have created, so I push it back farther. Last year, while the boy cried, the girl, only 12, had wet her own pants. I am determined not to follow in her footsteps, and at least go to my death with dignity. Because, oh yes, I will die. I will die in the hands of some monster who has spent their whole life dreaming of the moment they wear the victor crown. And they will wear it. Not me.

Garnish lifts my hand like she did Raven's. "Ladies and Gentlemen of District 7, your female tribute of the 70th Hunger Games, Fawn Dogwood!" The same smattering of applause and murmur of the betters. I can't bear to look out at them all, to see the look on Aria, River, Creta's faces ... Emotion builds up and I push back tears angrily. How dare I show weakness at this moment? I fix my eyes on something distant I can't see as Garnish takes her other hand in Raven's. "Ladies and Gentlemen of Panem, I give you the tributes of District 7!"

More applause, and Garnish flaunts around for awhile, talking about how she is sure the Games will be absolutely lovely this year, and how sure she is that we will do well. Though she does not say it simply, we have more potential than the pair from last year. Then she retreats to her chair, and I stand far away from Raven as Mayor Pine makes his way to the podium. Again in his slow manner, he reads the Treaty of Treason, giving us the rules of the Games, as if we could forget if we wanted to. Hearing them again makes me confident that I cannot win.

I risk a glance at the cameras perched on rooftops like bugs. They are fixed on me, Raven, and the Mayor. A few make wide, spreading scopes of the crowd, and I allow myself to do so once, too, for one last time. I briefly spot River's disbelieving face, Creta's sobbing one, Aria's, red and blotchy with suppressed tears, my mother's shocked stone-stilled. Piper's eyes have tears, and Riccy has fled across the crowd to Lyda, and has the other girl wrapped in her arms. Poy and Trew's faces are impassive, as Moxie, Robin, and Lake's are. I can see Elfie is stone-still and gazing fixedly at the ground, but Kri and Lore are actually crying. River's family, Byron, Tyrone, and Lily are frozen, unsure of what to do or say, and Lily's hand is touching her belly. Is she wondering if her unborn child will be Reaped one day?

But it's too much, and I have to look away. Mayor Pine finishes the Treaty of Treason, and I know that I have to shake Raven's hand. I turn to him, and accept his already outstretched hand, looking him in the eye. He has to die for me to come home, and I him. But, as we look into each other's eyes, we come to a silent agreement. We will not do this - not intentionally, anyway. And, in the odd chance that we come down to the final two, we kill like we would any other.

I turn and fix my eyes on the distant spot again, trying to look tough and untouchable. Untouchable I accomplish, maybe, but tough is impossible when all I want to do is sit down and cry and cry and cry.

~~~BTCS~~~

Anybody just dying to see the tribute list? I'll give you names, but that's it! :D Most of the credit goes to my awesome bud, Kaitlin, especially when it comes to names. But Fawn and Maze and Syren and a couple of others I can claim, as well as most of their personalities and appearances, but that's not available to you yet! Anywho, by district, ladies first: 1. Shyne Luxor and Luster Diamond. 2. Gneiss Mount and Mason Flint. 3. Pixel Flash and Chip Drive. 4. Syren Seeh and Tide Playa. 5. Scarlett Wires and Cabel Atom. 6. Jet Rails and Ryder Wheel. 7. Fawn Dogwood and Raven Carpenter. 8. Cotton Flinch and Thread Coil. 9. Rye Brown and Barley Harvester. 10. Angela Herder and Grant Farmer. 11. Maze Fields and October Harvest. 12. Hestia Flamel and Cole Miner.

Any favorites already - just by names? Fawn counts :p