Sick of Politics (Open)
Dec 26, 2008 19:15:53 GMT -5
Post by Cinna the Penguin on Dec 26, 2008 19:15:53 GMT -5
Oliver walked out of the District Nine Metting House, a frown on his face. He hated being on the Council, the government force of District 9. He had to sit in these meetings and listen as the eleven other men rambled on about nothing. Today, he spent three hours listening to them argue about bow draw weight requirements.
One side had argued for a minimum weight be placed on deer hunting, to prevent the animals from suffering from weaker, slower arrows. The other group had said this would be too much ofa hassle to enforce. As usual, neither side changed anything in one day, and the Council had been suspended until tommorrow. Yay.
He walked through the streets of District 9, looking around. People were laughing, talking, trading. This is how it should be. Who cares about what the Council does? From what Oliver picked up, there was certainly no one talking about draw weight.
He was well recgonized in town, after all he was the mentor for the Games. He waved to people as they waved to him. One time, however, as he was waving, he bumped into someone. Looking at the person, he said "Sorry. My bad."
One side had argued for a minimum weight be placed on deer hunting, to prevent the animals from suffering from weaker, slower arrows. The other group had said this would be too much ofa hassle to enforce. As usual, neither side changed anything in one day, and the Council had been suspended until tommorrow. Yay.
He walked through the streets of District 9, looking around. People were laughing, talking, trading. This is how it should be. Who cares about what the Council does? From what Oliver picked up, there was certainly no one talking about draw weight.
He was well recgonized in town, after all he was the mentor for the Games. He waved to people as they waved to him. One time, however, as he was waving, he bumped into someone. Looking at the person, he said "Sorry. My bad."
