#dawn2

Not too long after she’d arrived, Orlaith had regretted coming to the Outdoor Marketplace. She’d wanted to peruse the stalls, see if any knickknacks caught her eye, but the February chill pressed against her, making her eyes sting, and her nose redden with cold and her fingers ache. It was her own fault for not wearing a coat like all the other people here, who were bundled up and protected from cold’s biting sting. But she’d never much liked coats, the way they pinned down your arms and sat heavily on your body. Maybe it was the fae in her. 

What Orlaith needed was a warm cup of tea. Forget shopping. She could do then when it was warmer. A hot drink and perhaps (definitely) a cake would soon warm her free. She turned abruptly, mind made up, and only just managed to stop herself from careening into a woman at the last moment. Her mouth opened to apologise, and then recognition set in, a rueful smile tugging at her mouth instead. “I’m glad I managed to stop myself,” she said to Dawn, “since I don’t think your ankle could take another trip.” And she would have gone flying, if not for Orlaith’s quick reflexes. 

The year was already moving in a whirlwind for Florence. It seemed she never had a quiet moment anymore between all the work she was doing to get SCAAR up and running while still making time for her small social life and helping Newt with the Hogwarts course. It was the latter where she found herself tuning into someone's feelings. Dark — fragile and scared. She almost got lost in it, like a screaming in her head until Newt was calling for the end of class and she was pulled from the darkness. Looking around as the students gathered their things, it didn’t take much for Florence to pinpoint where the waves of distress were coming from. 

I’m not hungry.  It’s quite the lazy excuse.  She knows this, understands how childish those words sound when strung together.  After all, it was baby Aven’s go-to excuse before Kin was even born—back when dinner only needed to be split between four siblings.

By the time Aven was reaped, she had long mastered the specific tone that inspires more feelings of reassurance than of burden.   But this time?  She doesn’t need to try to sell it.  It’s not as if she’s lying.   How could she stomach anything knowing that she’ll be sending Darby and Kin off to the Capitol?

So she strings those words together again and gives Kin the most reassuring smile she can muster before closing the door.  As much as she trusts everyone in that room with her life, this is the worst time to show them vulnerability.  What they need is strength and confidence.  Aven and her teenage bravado can’t provide that right now.

All things considered, at least Seven is right next door this year.  Aven doesn’t know how she could get through this if she couldn’t talk to the one person who just gets her.  Another player of the games that the Capitol made them lose outside the arena.

“Hey Dawn,” she calls out.  Aven feels a rush of relief when her eyes land on the stylist.  “I missed you.  There’s a lot we gotta catch up on.”  A beat.  She doesn’t know if she should address the... ghost in Seven’s car.  “I hope you don’t mind me pulling you away for a moment.”

dawn2 by  wlop

[pm] Thanks, Ken.

[pm] I’m alive and a still pheromone-fueled Xander hates my guts, so I guess? I’m gonna stay with Dani until the place is cleaned up. I’ll replace the tv too.

[pm] So you killed his baby? Well, good job on that. Sorry he's taking it hard, but this is Xander we're talking about, I'm sure he'll come around. 

[pm] There’s a demon corpse under our tv.