brenna sophia scrivens [~] wanderer [wip!]

Curls frame Brenna's face and settle well with its oval curve. Dark brown with minute reddish highlights, it seems to turn auburn in sunlight. In extreme lighting, it can look a dark, pitch-black, almost like the wings of a raven. Thick and luscious, it beautiful and lovely. Her face is free from blemishes, save the occasional pimple or cut. Dark, almond-brown eyes-both in shape and colour- are mesmerizing; hollow, cold, and unfeeling orbs that make their home on her face.

It seems Brenna was built to wander. For as long as she can remember, she has always been on the move, always antsy and itching to go somewhere. Brenna makes her mark through the forests that surround all of the Districts, and running makes a person like Brenna lean, muscular, and swift. She is tall, she is quick, she is agile. She is not too skinny, but rather all of the fat on her body is transformed into muscle. From her head to her toes, she is all speed.

On first glance, Brenna looks tattered, torn, and dirty. This is to be expected, as she spends all her time in the forests. Her shoes are no longer shoes, not anymore; holes and slices layer them, rendering them almost unusable. She prefers to sprint barefoot anyway, only using the "shoes" in times of extreme weather. To Brenna, the world is just one large path, ready to be paved even more by her pounding feet.

Brenna tends to look at the world in a different way ever since that night. The world is no longer colourful, but only shaded in with greys, whites, and blacks. Nothing is vibrant any longer; it is all she can do to keep herself alive, trudging through life day by day. A smile is rare on her face, as she is mostly a serious person and looks at life with a serious attitude.

As serious as she is, Brenna enjoys taking risks. She acts on her whims when it comes to decisions, and usually acts on her gut. Her first thought and her first instinct on a situation is the one she goes with, feeling that usually your gut is a better thing to follow than a minute's worth of decision making.

One thing she does not mess around with, though, is trusting others. Trust is a major issue for Brenna. She does not find it easy to give her trust to another person, especially given the circumstances. It takes a long while for her to place any type of trust in you, especially with Hailee. Earn her trust, however, and you would be lucky to have her as a friend.

As cold and unappealing as she can seem, Brenna is definitely as sweet as can be. She looks out for others, even though her whole life nobody has looked out for her. The fact that she matured mentally at an early age makes it easy for you to trust her, and even easier to like her. She is kind, funny, and easy to talk to (when you're on her good side).

Life was wonderful for Brenna. She had everything she could possibly ask for growing up in District 1. Food, warm clothes, every single thing that people take as a luxury, she took as a normal part of every day life. She was never one to take that for granted, though; she always made sure to give her thanks for all the things she had in life, and to stay humble.

Growing up as an only child, she was not used to sharing attention. She was always underneath the spotlight, always her mom's shining star and her daddy's little girl. She was the sunshine of the house, and she never expected to have to share that beam of light.

Her mother's sister appeared at their doorstep one day, little two-year-old daughter in tote. Mangled, wild-looking, and tired, they were homeless and starving. A shock-especially in District 1-, they quickly embraced them into their home with open arms and hearts. The story went something along the lines of her aunt having a difficult time with her husband. Wrongly accused of cheating on him, and fearing for her life, she fled with her little girl in arm. Of course the Scrivens family would take in another soul, right?

Things were smooth for a while, at least for Brenna's parents. Family was more than important, and the extra addition was no hindrance. To Brenna, though, the little cousin who wandered around with sticky fingers was annoying and just plain got in the way of Brenna's spotlight. She no longer received all of the attention in the house; she had to share it with Hailee.

One night, with a half moon and stars shining dimly in the sky, a sudden crash of glass sounded on the tile floor of the kitchen. Footsteps tiptoed up the stairs, muted with the cover of the cloth of thick socks. Brenna huddled under her covers, afraid to peek out and examine what was going on, and who was intruding. Gasps soon emanated from the rooms of her aunt and parents, and she watched Hailee squirm in her sheets.

Faced with no other choice (because Hailee was bound to start screaming soon), Brenna tiptoed out of bed and crept into the neighbouring bedroom, her parents' bedroom. The stench of freshly spewed blood tickled her nose, and it took all her strength not to release all of that night's dinner onto the floor. The once-beautiful, once-clean sheets were caked with deep maroon. The only sound in the room was the one of Brenna's ragged, deep breaths. She whirled around, the event that had just occurred not yet settled in her mind. As she attempted to retreat back to her bedroom, she heard the ragged gasp of her aunt from the other room, and she pumped her legs harder to the room.

At this point Hailee was sniffling and crying harder than Brenna had ever seen anyone cry before. The moon was still shining somewhat brightly in the window, giving Brenna a dim source of light. She stuffed several outfits for both her and Hailee into a small bag and tossed it over her shoulder. She wrapped Hailee in a thick blanket, and hoisted her over her shoulder. There was still no sound coming from in the house. Had the intruder left, or was he waiting for her?

Deciding to take her chances, Brenna silently turned the door handle, peeked around the corner for any alien figure, and sprinted down the stairs. Hailee was crying now, and Brenna could feel the salty tears streaming down her shirt and back. Nothing grabbed for her, nobody's fingers grazed her arm. She was safe, protected and cloaked under the gaze of the half moon.

She gazed up into the sky, safe under the shadows the night now, and breathed; cold air surrounded her, and the moon's light allowed her to see her breath in the space. At this time, she cried as well. Hailee, still in her arms, and whimpering but no longer crying, squirmed uncomfortably. Brenna looked at this little girl, who had no home, no parents, and no idea what to do; and she realized that she herself was in the same situation.

Faced with no other family left in the District, and nowhere to run, she had to aim into the forest. Wind rustled in the trees as she ran to the fence, a hole that had be disguised by brush and overgrown grass. Hailee and she were stuck in this forest now; she had hoped that another person would discover the bodies in her home, and that she wouldn't have to deal with it. But now, the forest was where she belonged, because it-along with Hailee- was all she had.