𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐍 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐒 | hunger games ✓

chapter 1

━━･❪ 🌸 ❫ ･━━

There wasn't much of a view outside her bedroom window other than dry grass and overheated livestock, but Daphne Feng tugged the moth-eaten curtains aside anyway. Sunlight streamed through the faded glass, and the rusted frame groaned as she pried her window open. The blistering heat hit her like a slap in the face, same as it had for the past year. She decided to keep her window shut to preserve what little coolness had trickled into the house when the sun was down.

However, the heatwave wasn't the only thing leaving an uneasy feeling at the pit of her stomach.

It was the day of the Reaping. Daphne had barely slept a wink last night. Instead, she'd melted away hours looking up at the night sky and drawing star charts, an activity that usually calmed her nerves. This time, however, it failed.

Looking out from her bedroom, the attic that topped off a small wooden building the Fengs called home, Daphne had a full view of the ranch, which wasn't breathtaking. Chickens clucked and rustled in the coops below, kept safe by a mesh fence from any passing predators. Five sheep grazed lazily in the pens outside the barn.

Beyond the barn and the animal enclosures were neighboring ranches, then stretched miles of rolling plains and small scattered hills. The bland yellow of the dead foliage was occasionally interrupted by a splash of shriveled, green grass or shepherd paths carved throughout the years. This landscape was repeated throughout the majority of District Ten, and yes it was boring, but it was home.

Tugging on a pair of dusty overalls, Daphne headed downstairs to find her mother Esther already awake and by the dinner table, wrapping a couple of freshly laid eggs in a straw basket. A scruffy, lithe border collie sat beside her on the ground, his eyes and ears alert as always. His tail wagged as Daphne entered the small kitchen.

"'Morning, Daph," Esther greeted her with a warm smile, her tone merry and bright as if this were any other weekend. Normally, she'd have been well on her way to work now as a baker's assistant, but because of the Reaping, her boss has been kind enough to let her have the day off.

Daphne wished her good morning as well, though she knew from the wrinkles around Esther's eyes that her mother only had one thing on her mind. Esther never got those wrinkles unless she was stressed out about something.

Daphne had a brother once, Aedon Feng, three years her senior. He was fifteen when he was reaped into the hundred-forty-fifth Hunger Games. He hadn't walked out victorious.

Daphne still can't shake the image of that damned knife plunging into his abdomen. The District Three tribute who'd thrown it was killed in a similar manner a couple days later, and Daphne didn't feel sorry for cheering when it happened.

This year would mark the hundred-fiftieth Hunger Games; a Quarter Quell. The twist was similar to the fiftieth, where there were four tributes drawn from each district instead of two. Except this time, two tributes would be selected as normal, and those two would each have to pick one person to join them in the Games.

Daphne remembered her head spinning when President Frose had come over the television to deliver the news. That was the moment when all the teens in Panem began thinking about who would be the most ideal candidate to elect into the Games alongside them if they were unfortunate enough to be drawn.

"The hen laid eggs this morning," Esther said, wrapping the basket of eggs in a blanket she'd weaved from wool from their sheep. The delicate plum blossom pendant hanging from her necklace glinted in the sunlight. "I'm going to drop these off at the Caflischs', and when I get back, you and Barley can have some milk."

The dog's tail wagged harder at the mention of his name and "milk" together in the same sentence. Daphne chuckled and bent down to give him a scratch between the ears.