｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ 𝔤𝔞𝔪𝔢 𝔬𝔣 𝔰𝔲𝔯𝔳𝔦𝔳𝔞𝔩 un. — may the odds be ever in your favour!
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｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆
The sun rays broke through the shelter of trees in trickles of light, slowly and then all at once. As the light hit the leaves they turned from a deep and looming juniper to a brighter emerald — the light dancing over each leaf delicately. Mallory blew a strand of hair from her face, her messily done ponytail practically useless as her thick locks strained against the weathered old hair band. Placing a hand on her forehead for a moment Mallory gazed up at the all encompassing treetops and the rays of sunlight that trickled through. It was a new day.
A reaping day.
Rubbing the sweat of her head she let out one final grunt and swung her axe down on the wood before her — the birds hiding in the trees above squawking loudly before fleeing into the sky. Carrying the chopped wood back through town she gazed at all the solemn faces of parents and teenagers — and even children who were much too young to understand the significance of that day but who could still feel the upset in the air. She offered her usual smiles and upbeat greetings before finally making it home.
Dropping the firewood at the front door, Mallory grimaced at the sight of her sore dirt covered hands. It was too late to have a bath so she cleaned herself as quickly as possible with a bowl of water and a cloth before changing into her reaping dress — it was soft and cream in colour, the dress having belonged to her mother before her. Making her way to the front door Mallory frowned, sure she was forgetting something, "Shit," calling up the stairs her voice bellowed through the house, "Kaleb, Violet! Are you two ready?"
At once two sets of footsteps could be heard trampling down the stairs, both trying to be the first down as they pushed one another, "You're actually ready?"
Mallory questioned sceptically, their hair was brushed and they were dressed in their nicest clothes, "Dad got us ready."
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise. Her father was a good hardworking man, but after losing his wife in childbirth — Violet's birth — eight years prior he had taken a backseat when it came to parenting. He was always too busy throwing himself into work or in his room, that meant that Mallory had taken the lead parenting her siblings, not that she minded but she never felt like enough between school and her own small jobs.
Shaking out of her thoughts, Mallory found that Violet was gesturing for her to crouch down. The little girl pulled out a small handkerchief — violet in colour of course — and wiped a smidge of dirt from her nose that she must have missed, "Thanks, Vi." Soon her father was beside them at the door and they were off.
The town square was packed and before Mallory could be coaxed off into the line of seventeen year olds she ruffled a nervous Kaleb's hair and kissed her sister on the cheek. Her father muttered out a stiff, "Good luck," before disappearing into the crowd with Violet.
