snowflakes - [latisha]

fern sennett district eleven
y o u r e s o n a i v e

Happiness hit her like a train on a track.
Coming towards her, stuck still, no turning back.
Run fast for your mother, run fast for your father,
Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers.

Fern loved snow. Snow meant endless hours of snowmen building with her sisters, warm fires with music, building ice forts, and of course, snowflakes. Snowflakes were possibly one of Fern's most favourite things, aside from books and music and cartwheels and her sisters. She loved to stick out her tongue and catch them as they fell, zipping them back into the mouth and swallowing them whole. To Fern, each swallowed snowflake was a wish granted. I wish for my sisters to be healthy this winter, she thought as the slither of ice slid down her throat. I wish for more books, and to go to the Capitol to write, and have the Mockingjays sing on my birthday.

Swallow, swallow, swallow, wish, wish wish. That was how her day had gone so far, when she was lucky enough to catch one on her tongue - it was far harder than it looked. Careful not to wish too much - as one too many wishes could turn them all sour - Fern now wandered through the fields surrounding the orchards where her parents worked. Her little sisters weren't in tow behind her today, not even little Daisy, so instead she pattered through the chilled snow in boots and a jacket on her own.

As the thirteen year old became lost in dreaming up a story about an ice castle and an armoured polar bear, the wind picked up and sent her blonde hair dancing around her head. Pulling out a light blue beanie that seemed to match the colour scheme that surrounded her now in District Eleven, she tugged it onto her head and let the pom-pomed tassels fly about under her chin along with her hair. Normally Fern didn't mind the cold too much - but being so petite, her body cooled down quicker than most her age. Tightening her jacket around herself securely in an attempt to keep out sneaking gusts of wind, she then began to hum a tune to herself that she vaguely remembered from her earlier years of childhood. She began to wander off in her aimless daze, the usual skip in her step ever-present in her stride, wondering if anyone else was around in these parts of Eleven, longing for company.

describing [6b9e42] thinking [ffeecc] talking [999999]