Jethro Branstetter D12M [DONE]

Jethro Branstetter | D12M | Sixteen

Jethro Branstetter was never one to work done in the mines like his dad and granddad did before him. Hell, probably even his great grandaddy to worked down in those deep dark caves. That wasn’t the life that Jethro was after though, always chasing the wind through the trees on top of the mountain. He was dancing in the sunlight as it broke through the canopy of the forest, trying to play with whatever animal seemed friendly enough to join in on the fun. Always managed to get a group of those just as rowdy as he was out there with him to, back when the district was out of the eye of the Capital. Ever since the Capital won the war, they have been forcing anyone who can work down into the mines, not caring how many people can actually fit. They still had the common decency to send the canaries down first. Jethro’s father is proud that his son is carrying on the legacy, even if it’s not entirely of his will.

"You're finally taking up the mantle boy!" his dad exclaimed, clapping him in the back as if this was a moment to be proud of. "You're not off trying to chase no damn bears again. Hopefully you've been keeping in mind what I've been trying to teach ya."

"At least the bear was my friend," Jethro would retort.

His sharp thin eyes downcast as his gangly long arms and hands were shoved in the pockets of his overalls. His straight eyebrows are knotted together in sorrow. Jethro has always been a gangly kid, not one for rough hard labor like his boulder of dad. He was always better suited to climbing in the tree tops, or for running up those hills. We wished to have any sort of escape, even at night trying to push his luck to see how far in the woods he can get before they start to notice that he's gone. Jethro quickly learned that he needed to be careful for what he wished for though.