Author Games: The Last Cannon

TASK FOUR: Female Entries

District 1 Female - COSMO CAVALLI [1]

"Casimir." I say, panting as I dig my nails into his back. "We have.. Got to.. Stop.. Meeting like.. This." I say between moans. We fumble backwards, until my back slams against the base of a tree. The forest is silent, disturbed only by our heavy breathing. Casimir doesn't respond, too busy trying to find the right spot on my chest to place his lips.

Swear forms on his face, but I manage to stay clean. At the Palace, if we sweat, we lose our money. 

Just as I'm afraid I'll get overheated, a cool breeze ripples though the forest, making me shiver. I slip my hands under his shirt, my fingers running up and down his spine as he grunts.

Just as I fear I'll break the skin on his back with my nails, a twig snaps near us. Casimir darts backwards, pulling his pants up from around his ankles. I use the tree as I breathe heavily from my latest encounter. He throws me my clothing from the ground, but I'm too distracted to catch it. 

I lift my blowgun up, aiming it at the tree. He nods at my weapon, smiling. "You're pretty good with that thing, Cavalli."

I laugh slightly, taking a step towards him. "I love my blowgun. It gives me something to blow. Other than you, of course." He laughs loudly, but the moment is shattered by the sound of voices. 

We look up, our eyes darting through the trees. "I'll go west, you go east." I whisper, already following one of the bodies I spot through the trees. "We will meet back at camp." I have just enough time to slip on my boots before I start running through the forest, my blowgun high. My eyes scan the masses of foliage, but I have lost the tribute I was searching for. 

"Fuck me." I curse, kicking the nearest tree. My chest proves to be a problem as I attempt to run, bouncing too heavily. For the first time, I yearn for a bra to keep my money making orbs in place. As much as I adored the freedom, I would never get a job with saggy breasts.

The overwhelming smell finds my nose before my eyes find the flower. Warmth fills my nostrils, hot and passionate. It smells like the air after a summer storm. I can almost taste the heavy smell of cinnamon. I can almost hear the crackle of a fire as the smell of smoke warms me.The scent fills my heart with a heavy feeling of longing.

I let out an awe-filled gasp, involuntarily falling to my knees in front of the flower. Pain shoots from the bruises that were forming there from this morning, but I barely notice. My hand shakes as I reach out to touch the velvety petals. An electric shock floods my fingers, only fueling my affection for flower.

A cluster of golden, pollen filled balls nestle in the center. I pick a single orb from the flower to crush between my fingers. Yellow dust forms, coloring my hand the same brilliant color. The same warmth I felt in my nose transfers to my thumb. The heat causes my heart to ache.

Tiny petals glide from all sides of the pollen cluster. Ombré colored, the base is a deep yellow, even brighter than the dust that coats my fingers. The yellow lightens to a pastel, nearly white towards the center of the petal. The tips curl into themselves in a lavender swirl. I don't dare pick the small petals off; there are only fifteen of them.

While the large, heart shaped petals are the plainest of the flower, they draw my attention the strongest. Eight of them jut from the center in perhaps the most brilliant color I have ever seen. While the petals are undoubtably pink, there is no single shade. Whites, rose, pastel pink. All shades of pink that a human could imagine blend together in paper thin lines. They nearly seem to be blended together in a brilliant swirl of color.

I reach out to touch the petals and freeze. For a moment, I can't move. I don't even blink. I even stop breathing. All I can do is sift through my brain. It has all the same qualities. Three layers. Yellow and pink. Heart shaped petals. Warm. There is only one species the flower can be.