<Turn. :Back: .Time> [Aya]

In District Eleven, there are no season. There is only hot. Erses wiped the sweat out of his eyes with the back of his wrist, completely drenched from the hot work. He wasn't much of a whiner out loud, but on the inside, his body groaned.

All his work really was rotten, harvesting food for the plump and lazy Capitol while he and his family starved. Of the six of them-- two boys, three girls, and their mother-- only he and his younger sister Calla hold up the family, with his mother unfit to do much as far as work, and his youngest siblings too young to help. They needed every cent, every scrap of food that he could bring to the table, and work ought not to be wasted complaining about the heat or wishing his father back from the disease that had claimed his life years ago.

Sobering thoughts such as those were usually the ones to end the teen's irritable grumblings. Nimbly, he swung down from one branch and headed to the water pump-- the same that provided drinks for trees in the orchard-- for a quick drink.

In District Eleven, there is plenty of food. Too bad it's illegal to eat it.

Sometimes, Erses didn't mind work. At the moment, it wasn't too bad. He'd filled his stomach up with water to trick it into thinking he was full, although he could now feel it sloshing around in his stomach as he stepped. After a moment, he stopped feeling queasy and swung back up into into a tree to toss down more fruit.

How tempting it was, the glossy red apple in his hand. How easy it would be to slip it into the pocket of his cargo shorts and bring it home to his family for part of their supper. There would probably be only one slice for each of them, but it would help add a bit of flavor to the dry ration bread that was their meal each night.

With a regretful sigh, he dropped it into his basket, which was set on the ground.

In District Eleven, the mockingjays sing. Half the time, it's more of a lament.

The stringy teen was never so unobservant to recognize the sound of falling out of a tree. Growing up with five little siblings, he practically had a mother's senses for trouble. He swung his head around, though noticed no one on their back.

Within several seconds, he pinpointed the cause: a younger-looking girl who was straightening up as though recovering from a sloppy leap from a tree. He probably wouldn't have ended up saying anything, but something urged him to call out.

"Oi! You there! Y'okay?" Erses, though shy, felt naturally protective of those younger than him. Being the head of the house for long enough, practically raising the youngest of his siblings, it came.

In District Eleven, there's plenty of nature to get in touch with. So long as it doesn't touch you.

Erses knew that now was a good time to back off. It was rarely that anyone of any age managed to fall out of a tree in his district, as most--if not all--were skilled climbers, with an acute sense of balance.

Beyond that, the girl in front of him obviously was proud and fierce, as her glare had told him. Normally, Erses would have rushed forward to politely offer a hand up-- it was taking an effort to resist as it was-- but he knew it would be a bad idea.

He hesitated for a moment before deciding to introduce himself. He'd need to get back to work soon, but figured it would be polite to give his name.

"I'm Erses.

In District Eleven, the sun is always shining. Far too brightly.

Unable to think of anything to say to this girl, who obviously begrudged him her name practically against her will, Erses stood silent. It felt awkward, with nothing being said, but he was at a loss for what he could say without somehow managing to offend this Kiara.

Maybe she'd say something else. Shy as he was, polite as he was, Erses decided to not retreat back to his tree until something was said. Perhaps it would be good for the girl. Or perhaps it would irk her.