She had been laying on her bed for half an hour, dressed in a long nightgown, and wrapped in a shawl for over an hour now. Her parents had knocked on the door and tried talking to her, but she wouldn't answer. They called her for dinner, and she refused, even though they had cooked her all-time favourite, fish and chips, with a berry yogurt for afters. They so rarely got to eat fish, and chips were almost non-existent. They had to trade with The Goatee for yoghurt, as he bred all the goats that lived by the slag heap at the West mine entrance. Only her father ever braved the long walk, and hard talk that was unavoidable once you got within range of The Goatees' house, and the goats sour stench.
They left her dinner outside her bedroom on a tray, and only when they had gone had she pulled the meal into her room, and ate until her apple sized stomach was full. Even being a merchants daughter there were still risks that there wouldn't be enough to eat that night. So Heather tried to keep her portions small, so that in case of a famine, or some sort of product delay, she wouldn't go too hungry. Also so she could stay feminine and petite. She had found out the hard way that fat didn't sit at all well on her curvaceous, lithe frame. She dumped the tray outside her door, and stopped to try to hear what her parents were saying downstairs. "We can't let her just lock herself up in her room. She has to come down at some point."
"You know why she's up there, don't you?"
"Yes, because of Joe, and that Seam boy, Carver. I mean, what kind of a name is Carver?! Ugh! Ridiculous. I don't know why she thinks going out with that waste of space is a good idea! She must know that marrying a merchant would benefit her better, so why can't she just accept the fact, and try working out her feelings for Joe?" The scary thing was, her father was right... She did like Carver, his steely eyes that saw everything, physical, mental, and emotional, but there was something alluring about those grass green eyes, that parchment skin, those inky wisps...
"Get your mind out of the gutter!" She hissed, and retreated back into her bedroom, for fear of distracting herself. She sat on her bed staring into space, and formulating a careful plan. She jumped up, and headed to her chest of drawers. Heather pulled out some long burnt umber pants, a forest green cotton tank top, and worn leather boots. Her mother didn't approve of this outfit at all, but this was a present from Carver, and had cost him three years worth of tesserae rations. He entered his brothers' name, who was diagnosed from birth with a life threatening condition, that stopped him entering the Hunger Games, but he was still eligible for entry. So Carver would enter his, and his brothers' name, so that they would get double the amount of tesserae. So he halved his life source, saved of three years, just to buy her this birthday present. She pulled on the clothes, leaving her boots on the floor by her door, and pulling short socks on over her feet. She did her chestnut hair up into a braid, and tied it with a small strip of leather. She pulled on a hunting jacket that used to be Carvers when he was younger, and pulled aside the curtains over her window. She knew it would be a full moon tonight, and because she was a light sleeper, she knew, once the moon emerged she would not sleep for long. And it was important she wake up on time. She climbed straight into bed and shut her eyes, ready for the moment that she and Carver would come face to face again.