Willow Brisco District 7

This sixteen year old girl from district seven has earned her soft sunkissed skin spending her afternoons working in the sun. A crimson birth mark twists itself around the left side of her back halfway down from the base of her skull. Her fingers are calloused and scarred from endless hours spent weaving wicker and binding books. Most of the time her lips seems permanently frozen in a concentrated frown, her jaw clenched shut, trying to focus on anything but the harsh reality around her.

To a stranger, Willow would appear to be a quiet girl, although she is quite outspoken with those who know her best. Her long brown locks cascade across her face, hiding her from view, just the way she likes it. Deep chocolate brown eyes hide behind that curtain, and shine with playfulness when they are revealed. She stands about half a foot taller than most girls, but no one would ever notice as she is usually found bent over a stack of pages sewing them together. Her limbs hang by her sides wispy like the branches of a willow tree.
Willow’s appearance makes her easy to overlook, which is just fine by her, because she doesn’t like too much attention. You can get away with a lot more when no one notices you. Her plain clothes only make it that much easier to blend in, not that she could afford anything fancy anyway. It’s not that she is particularly rebellious, but with people being hauled away for the slightest indication of independent thought, privacy is something to be valued.

Willow is a head down, shoulders back kind of girl. She is proud, but she cares too much about her family to push her luck with the peacekeepers. Like many children of Panem, she has been forced to grow up too fast, and so bears a unique kind of wisdom. Years of living under capitol jurisdiction has taught her to follow the rules, or at least make herself appear to be following the rules at all times. Even alone, she often finds herself glancing over her shoulder anytime a treasonous thought enters her mind, and they often do, if to no other end than the hope of a better future for her brothers and sisters.

She is a daydreamer, always lost in her own little world. Very few people are capable of pulling her out of her daze. The world is a dreary enough place that Willow prefers to ignore her social environment in favor of smaller happier moments like naps under shade trees and sunbeams filtering through dusty glass window panes. Most of her work is tedious enough to allow her mind plenty of time to wander.

Those who know her best, know that she loves fervently, and would do anything it takes to defend her friends and family. She is an idealist, always wishing for a better world, but never speaking a word of it to anyone she doesn’t trust, which is just about everyone. She is very close with her sister Laurel, even though they are polar opposites, and although, she loves her brother Lynden, she wouldn’t dare risk saying as much too him. He is still too young to hear the words whispered under his sisters’ blanket in the night. She also talks to her best friend Starling, but Starling is more interested in boys and other trivial subjects than she is in changing her circumstances.

Willow was raised on good intentions and sawdust. Her father spent his days breaking his back to support his family, while her mother stayed at home, learning to improvise with the resources she had to care for all her children. Even though Willow’s mother (Dara), grew up in the mills, she was an only child with no idea that the hardships of this life could increase from what she had always known. Her father (Arvid) on the other hand, had six brothers and sisters, two of whom were selected as tributes and died in the games.

She has four younger siblings; Laurel at eleven years of age, Lynden at nine,
Lana at seven, and Oren at three. Laurel was born before she was carried to term. It took years of struggle to keep her alive. She was nothing but skin and bone until she was six years old. After that she started helping their father carry in the blocks of firewood and grew like a weed. Her arms began to ripple with new muscle tissue, and her frame changed from a wirey bundle to a sturdy trunk. She is the closest to Willow of the bunch in both age and affection.

With five kids in the family, it is a struggle to keep everyone fed, but they manage to stay healthy. All of the children who are old enough work alongside their parents. Lynden just recently started learning to press the paper and polish the plates and dinnerware for their mother. He’s even started carving figurines for the younger kids to play with.

Starling was the first friend Willow ever made, and is the only one she’s ever kept. Living next door to each other they would often play together on the days before they were old enough to attend school. They have been through everything together from famines to feasts (or at least what is considered a feast under such circumstances). Starling never misses one of Willow’s birthdays, and she always comes up with a gift. Mostly it’s just a flower or a deck of cards, but one year when the district had a victor, she brought her three silver bangles. Willow never takes them off no matter where she goes.