What do you say to taking chances? (Aspen)

Silence. Not even a bird call rang through the air. A thin layer of fog had rolled in, settling along the forest floor. Clothes clung to Orissa's thin frame as she trudged through the forest. A stray piece of straight, dark brown hair hung in her face, so she tucked it back behind her ear. Most of the forest was actually alive with sounds--axes chipping away at old trees, mockingjays echoing the workers songs, water bubbling past in the creek. But not here. Orissa had ventured far into the forest, past the middle and towards the outskirts where no one dared to go. She didn't feel like going home today. She had made the decision to camp out in the forest. Sure, it was a stupid decision. The Peacekeepers could find her and she could get in huge trouble, possibly even be put to death. Or worse. Dare she think it? Be turned into an Avox. She loved to talk... having her tongue maimed to the point where she couldn't talk wasn't something she could live with. But she needed time to herself, away from her annoying--but loved--older cousins, Jason and Cole, and her Aunt and Uncle, Emily and Kenneth.

She stepped into a clearing, one she had found months ago. She remembered the day well. She and Cole had been racing through the forest. Though Orissa was faster, Cole had longer legs and cleared obstacles much more easily. They were racing to who-knows-where. The race was tied, the two cousins neck-and-neck for first. "Eat my dust!" Orissa howled as she exhorted her last boost of speed, leaping over a small log that stood in the way. Cole swore behind her, and Orissa knew she had won. She looked over her shoulder to gloat at the wrong moment. Smack! she ran into a curtain of vines which swayed when she hit it. The vines were soft and not very heavy, but it whipped against her skin when she was going so fast. The vines hung over the entrance of a cave. Cole was right behind her, wheezing from a combination of laughter and being out of breath. "Your. . . face. . . is. . . red!" He snorted, falling and thrashing around in the dirt. Orissa's hand flew up to her face, and she felt three lines rising on her skin. They were warm to the touch. She pulled her hand back and slapped Cole hard. He just laughed harder, and so she kicked him. He pulled himself and got off the ground, tears spilling down his cheeks from laughing so hard. "You jerk!" she wailed, ready to smack him again, but he grabbed her delicate hands in his thick, leathery hands. She tried to squirm free, but he held her there, captive, unable to move. He was so much taller and heavier than she was, she weighing 96 pounds and standing at 5'3". Cole, on the other hand, was at least 6' and weighed a good 179 pounds.

"Come on, let's hug it out." He chortled, and pulled her in close to him. He squeezed her so tight she was afraid her eyeballs might pop right out of her skull. "Enough." She mumbled, gasping for air as she clawed at his chest. "Let me go!" He released her with a good-natured smile. "Let's see what behind this... whatever it is." Cole said, lifting the vines. "They're vines, genius. I thought even you, with your level of stupidity, would know what vines are." "Sorry I don't sit in the forest all day like an antisocial, cataloguing plants and animals!" He retorted. "Antisocial! I'm surprised that's in your vocabulary. Come on." She said, pushing him playfully and peeling back the vines.

Her breath caught in her throat. "Woah..." She said dreamily. After walking through the cave for a while, she had stepped into a circular meadow. Bright colors of yellow, pink, and purple sprung up all around her, almost calling out for her to draw them. Orissa itched to take out her sketchbook or journal and draw the entire meadow, or maybe just a single flower. Too bad she hadn't brought it. Cole emerged from the cave a few seconds later, since he had lagged behind, and didn't seem as impressed. "Wow. There are flowers. Cool. Let's go." He said shortly, grabbing for her hand to lead her back in the cave. Orissa yanked it away. "Of course you don't understand its beauty. You're a boy." She snapped. "Fine, have fun frolicking in the flowers. I'm going to go home and hone my awesome axe skills." "I hope the axe isn't as dull as you are. If so, you'll get nothing done." Orissa teased. That was the sort of relationship they had. Always teasing, always taunting, but deep down they were closer than cousins. They were like brother and sister. Cole protected her from everything dangerous, which meant boys, too. And they could tell each other everything. Orissa trusted Cole with every secret she had. She watched him retreat, having to slump over slightly because the cave was small.

She snapped back to the present, the soft meadow grass tickling her knees. It was extremely long because nothing came back here. Nothing was there to trample it down, to damage it, to cut it. It grew as long as it desired, as high as it could. She sighed and flopped into the grass, allowing it to brush against her cheeks, legs, arms, and every other part of her body. There weren't any flowers anymore because it was Fall, but the leaved in the trees surrounding the clearing had turned beautiful shades of yellow, orange, gold, and red. They all blended together perfectly, creating the illusion that the tops of the trees were ablaze. She pulled her journal out of her knapsack. In her bag she had packed two thick blankets, a canteen of fresh water, a roll for the morning, an apple in case she got snacky, and, of course, all her drawing materials. Orissa flipped to the next empty page, and began to sketch out the basic outline of the tree. It started out thicker near the ground, but as it got taller, it got slimmer. Then it forked, and each fork split in two, and it went on and on until it created a confusing labyrinth of branches. Leaves sprouted from the branches, some fluttering off the tree, carried away by the light breeze. She drew everything, even the stray leaves, then pulled out her most prized possession--her colored pencils. One does not come upon colored pencils easily in District 7. Her mother had been an artist and took extremely great care of them, and Orissa was given these pencils when her mother... tears brimmed in her eyes as she thought the last word, died. Wiping away the salty tear, she began to lightly color the leaves, then worked her way down to the ground.

Today was Sunday, Aspen’s only day off. He decided to take a walk in the woods, and enjoy the nice weather. His father gave him the OK to go in the woods, as long as he was careful, and stayed out of trouble. Aspen had packed a small lunch, an axe, and a canteen of water before heading out into the woods.
He loved coming to the woods; hearing the twigs and leaves crunch under his feet, and listening to the mockingjays sing their beautiful songs. Aspen sang himself, and he’d always heard that he was a decent singer. Then again, that piece of information came from the girls in school that were always vying for his attention, so he wasn’t sure if they were a reliable source.
Aspen walked for a couple of hours, and went deeper in the woods than he usually did, and he found a clearing. The sun shone in the clearing, and he could see dust motes floating in the air.
Why haven’t I come here before? He thought to himself as he sat in the grass, taking in the peace of mind. He pulled out the sandwich he had made for himself and ate contentedly, enjoying the solitude.
As he finished the sandwich, he noticed something odd: a curtain of ivy. He scrunched his eyebrows in scrutiny, and walked over to it. He took a strand of it in his hands, feeling the texture of the leaves between his fingers. Sturdy, yet delicate. He brushed some back to see what was behind it, and he gasped slightly. There was an opening to a cave.
Relax, Aspen. What’s the worst thing that could be in there?
He pulled out his axe, and held it in his dominant hand, ready to throw it or chop with it in self-defense; Aspen was a rather skilled axe thrower, a talent he got to show off at festivals.
Aspen took a step into the cave, his footstep echoing off the walls. He decided to sing one of his favorite childhood lullabies to calm himself down as he travelled further inwards:
“Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where they strung up a man
They say murdered three
Strange Things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight
In the hanging tree

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where the dead man called out
For his love to flee
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight
In the hanging tree

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Where I told you to run
So we'd both be free
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight
In the hanging tree

Are you, are you
Coming to the tree
Wear a necklace of rope
Side by side with me
Strange things did happen here
No stranger would it be
If we met up at midnight
In the hanging tree.”

Halfway through the song, he saw a light at the end of the tunnel, and as he finished, he found himself in a flowered clearing that was filled with rather tall grass. Even though he was a guy, a manly one at that, he was taken slightly aback at its beauty. At this point, he didn’t care if anyone heard him singing; he was glad he found this place, no matter if he saw a Peacekeeper there or not. Besides, if anyone were here, he couldn't tell; the grass was too high.

"Deep in the meadow, under the willow."

Orissa had finished the coloring and was now working on shading. The shading she did helped it fell more real and gave it dimension, as if you could reach out and touch it. When all the shading was finished, she held it out in front of her and admired her drawing. She didn't really feel like writing anything about the tree just yet, so she slid her journal carefully back into her backpack, and fell back into the cushiony grass. A line from a very famous lullaby rang through her mind,

"A bed of grass, a soft green pillow."

She sighed. If only her mother were here to sing it to her. See, this is the reason she came here today; to mourn her parents where no one could see her. She tried to always be a happy, upbeat person. Little did everyone know that she broke down from time to time, shed a tear here and there. She didn't remember much of her parents, but there were a few things she could recall. Her mother's gentle hand, caressing Orissa's little face. And the smile her mother had. Oh, that smile lit up everything around her. If she walked into a dark and dreary situation, she was like the moon, shining bright through even the darkest times. Her father, strong and sure. Leading their household with a sturdy hand, yet very sweet and tender when he looked over at his little daughter. His sense of humor must've been something spectacular, because Orissa's mother was always laughing at his jokes. Slowly, Orissa's eyelids began to flutter shut, and she fell asleep.

"Lay down your head, and close your eyes. And when again it's morning the sun will rise. Here it's safe, here it's warm, here the daises guard you from every harm."

A warm smell drafts in through the kitchen. Orissa inhales deeply to detect the scent. Bread! A rare delicacy. Maybe not to the richer residents of Panem, but to her, it's rare. She walks sleepily into the kitchen, her feet feeling as though they're walking on clouds. "Auntie, what are you baking?" She asks as she sees a woman bent over the oven. The woman turns, a smile spread on her face. It's her mother. "Mom!" She cries out, running over to her. Her mother looks just as youthful as she remembered her being. Short, like Orissa, with wavy light brown hair. Her dazzling smile lights up the room. Her skin is fair, one of the only traits they don't share, and wrinkle-free. Her kind amber brown eyes are looking up at her with love. They hug and a tear trickles down Orissa's cheek and into her mother's hair (Orissa is 2 inches taller than her mother.).

"Here your dreams are sweet, and tomorrow brings them true."

She feels that gentleness in her mother's hug, the way she held her when she was a baby. Orissa buries her face in her mother's shoulder, having to hunch her shoulders to do so. She's shaking with joy, tears rolling down her face much more furiously now. "Mom, I've missed you. So much." She cries as her mother wipes away tears. "What, have I been forgotten?" A husky voice says behind her, mock hurt in his tone. She knew that voice, too. "Daddy!" Orissa yelled, all maturity leaving her. She is still locked in her mother's arms, but she cranes her neck to get a look at him. He towers over the two of them, a good 9 inches taller than Orissa, not to mention much thicker and more muscular. His deep emerald green eyes are marked with laugh lines, making his smile even more endearing. He outstretches his large hands and pulls them all in for a group hug, his arms almost encircling them both. Orissa buries her face into his chest, the solidity of his hug unreal. She expected them to be like ghosts, even in her dreams. There, but not tangible. "I miss you guys so much." They both look into her eyes and say simultaneously, "We love you." Their voices match together perfectly, creating something that sounds almost like a song.

"Here is the place where I love you."

She awoke as the grass near her rustles. Just like that, her parents are gone. Oh well, She thought, That's a lot better than the usual nightmare. But was it truly better than a nightmare? All she did in her nightmare was relive the day of her parents death, watching as they were crushed to death by the falling tree. That was real. But in her dream, she was swept away into a fantasy land, where her parents still lived. That left her heart aching, longing for them to come back to life.

Groggily, she rose to a sitting position, the grass coming up to her torso. She was surprised when she saw a familiar face. Aspen, though she forgot his last name. He was the boy that all the girls swooned over. Being a follower of the crowd, Orissa did, too. She hunched over so that she was hidden by the grass and watched him as he entered the meadow. "What are the chances?" She whispers very quietly to herself. She composes herself, straightens her back, and calls out, "Aspen?"

Aspen had never been to this clearing, that's for sure. How long had it been here, waiting to be discovered?
Aspen hummed his song again, letting the wind accentuate his voice. If he thought the woods were peaceful, this clearing was Heaven. The frosting on the cake.
The smell of the breeze reminded Aspen of a warm summer day that seemed eons ago, and a girl's voice seemed to be carried by the breeze into Aspen's psyche.
"Catch me, Aspen!"
Marlena's voice rang in Aspen's head, as he daydreamed about the girl that he played with when they were younger. Marlena Sherwood was Aspen's age, and they had grown up living next to each other. They spent countless hours after school running around outdoors, and playing tag was a common game. Aspen missed those days, and her.
She was the one that taught him "The Hanging Tree", with her clear-as-glass voice, she would captivate anyone with her songs. It was upon Aspen's insisting that Marlena taught it to his mother, so she could sing it to him every night, and occasionally to get him to fall back asleep after a nightmare.
One day, when Aspen was 10, her parents came to the Ives Household, and they were crying. Marlena had gone for a walk, and didn't come back. They asked Aspen if he knew where she was, and he was at a loss for words.
They never found Marlena, and they held a small funeral for her, assuming the worst. From then on, Aspen refused to let girls get past his barriers; he made a "wolf pack", so to speak, with some guys at school, and just let the girls fawn over what he wanted to show them. They wouldn't want a guy so badly bruised by the loss of a childhood friend.

Aspen came back to reality, and saw someone sitting up in the grass: a girl that Aspen vaguely recognized from school; was her name Orissa?
"Aspen?" She called out, obviously surprised that he was here.
"Hi...Orissa, right? What is this place?"

She watched him intently, smiling as he said, "Hi...Orissa, right?" He knows my name! She wanted to squeal. Her heart began to pound. Calm down, Orissa. She told herself. "What is this place?" He said. She smiled and stood up, walking towards him. The grass was springy, making her bounce with each step. "This," She said, "Is a meadow I found not too long ago. Beautiful, isn't it?" Her deep green eyes sparkled with enthusiasm, but slightly puffy and red from crying. She had been so caught up in the moment that she almost forgot the dream she had just had... almost. The voices of her parents echoed through her mind. "We love you."... She kept seeing her father's crinkled eyes, her mother's bright smile. She realized a few tears had escaped her eyes once again, and she frantically wiped them away. Her heart felt like it had been torn open, like it was spurting blood. It literally hurt. Though she desperately wanted to fall onto the ground and hug her knees to her chest, she feebly smiled up at Aspen.

The breeze ruffled her long, straight brown hair, blowing wisps of it into her face. A strand of hair flew into her mouth, and so she pulled it out, disgust clear on her face. Laughing weakly, she said, "My favorite part of the meadow is the flowers. Too bad it's fall and they're all dead. Sometime you'll have to come back in the spring and see the colors. It's wonderful." She seemed lost in thought, letting her eyes drift around to drink in everything she saw. "If only I had a camera. One of the fancy ones they have in the Capitol. I'd capture it all." She sighed, wandering out into the middle of the meadow. The wind picked up, her hair now swirling in the air, leaves being carried in streams around the entire meadow, settling at random places. One blew straight into her face, clinging to her cheek. She peeled it off and examined it. It was a bright orange-red color. It crinkled in her hand. She held it delicately, afraid that if she flexed just a finger that it would crumple in her hands. Taking out her journal, she opened to the page she had just been drawing on and used it as a bookmark, placing it gingerly in the page, closing it lightly, and stuffing it back in her bag.

"This is a meadow I found not too long ago. Beautiful, isn't it?" Aspen noticed her eyes light in enthusiasm, and could tell she enjoyed this place. He thought he saw a flicker of despair in her eyes, but that went away when the wind blew, and wisps of her hair were blown in her face.
She's kind of pretty.
A strand of hair blew into her mouth, and with a supreme look of disgust, she pulled it out. The two laughed slightly at the misfortune.
"My favorite part of the meadow is the flowers. Too bad it's fall and they're all dead. Sometime you'll have to come back in the spring and see the colors. It's wonderful."
Her eyes wandered a bit as Aspen's mind followed suit.
Marlena loved flowers. I wonder if the flowers here are daisies? Those were her favorite.
"If only I had a camera. One of the fancy ones they have in the Capitol. I'd capture it all." She sighed, and Aspen's interest was piqued.
An artist.
The wind picked up, ruffling both of their hair. Aspen's styled locks started coming undone, and he could feel it. Not as badly as Orissa's long hair, though; that would tangle quickly. Leaves swirled around in the gusts of air, and a large orange-red one blew right into Orissa's face. She picked it off, pulled a journal out of her bag, and placed it delicately between two of the pages before stuffing the journal back into her bag.
"I can't remember the last time it was this windy." Aspen said. He balked at the notion that he was talking about the weather. That usually meant he couldn't think of anything else to say. Normally, the silence wouldn't bother him, but with Orissa...something about the silence seemed offensive. He wanted to fill the silence with their voices, but small talk of the weather wouldn't last long.

Orissa continually attempted to keep her long, dark brown hair out of her face, but the wind seemed set on making her hair a tangled mat. She groaned and stopped pushing her hair out of her face, letting strands of it blow into her face, sometimes hiding her eyes. She looked over at Aspen, his perfectly styled hair being blown and tangled, too. That didn't take away his charm, though, and Orissa found herself staring longingly at him. Once she realized she had been doing this, she tore her gaze away, her cheeks flushing a light pink color. Her skin was dark, so it was barely visible.

"I can't remember the last time it was this windy." Aspen said, breaking the silence that had been suspended in the air for quite some time. Weather.... alright, I can role with this. She thought, trying hard not to laugh. "Yeah, it's extremely windy." She paused, not sure whether to say the next part. She might sound like a little kid... she was such a child at heart. But she said it, anyway, "I love the wind, though. It's my favorite kind of weather. It makes me feel like I can fly." She grinned. She remembered many times she and Jason would run outside, holding their arms out like birds. They would race around the house, laughing so hard that they would fall over into the grass. Then they would lay there, side by side, watching the leaves swirl in the wind above them. Cole would watch from inside the house, a sneer spread across his face at their childishness, but Orissa could see the twang of longing he felt. His eyes gave away the fact that he, too, wanted to run outside like he had when he was a kid. But her cousin Cole was the mature one in the family. Jason was the care-free kid that would do crazy things with Orissa just for the heck of it.

She smiled at Aspen, twirling a lock of her hair. She was searching for words, words that would spark a conversation. Maybe you should ask about pets... She thought. Nah, that's pathetic. You can do better. "So..." She started, sitting down in the long grass, still lush despite the season. Sitting there reminded her of the times she spent with Jason on those windy days. "What do you like to do?" She looked up at him with inquiring, vibrant green eyes. "Do you have any favorite hobbies or sports?"

"Yeah, it's extremely windy." Orissa said, and she looked like she was trying not to laugh.
Great, I sounded like an idiot.
"I love the wind, though. It's my favorite kind of weather. It makes me feel like I can fly." She said with a smile. Aspen nodded with a smile, remembering how he'd pretend to be a bird on windy days like this. The last time he tried it was when he was seven, and he took a nose dive out of a tree and broke his wrist in the process. After he learned that people, in fact, cannot fly like birds, he never tried it again. He stuck to running head-first into the wind after that; keeping his feet on solid ground, and holding his arms out.
Orissa looked at him inquisitively, and he anticipated her question.
“What do you like to do? Do you have any favorite hobbies or sports?”
Ah, something he could go with.
“I run sometimes…I swim, even though I’m not that good…I’m a lumberjack trainee, so I chop wood with my dad…oh, and I take part in the axe-throwing competitions they hold during festivals. I guess I’m pretty decent…what about you?”

“I run sometimes…I swim, even though I’m not that good…I’m a lumberjack trainee, so I chop wood with my dad…oh, and I take part in the axe-throwing competitions they hold during festivals. I guess I’m pretty decent…what about you?” Aspen said. "Oooh gosh, I can't go anywhere near axes. Ironic, because we live in the Lumber District." Orissa laughed. Aspen seemed like an interesting guy. Very athletic, too. Not that she couldn't already tell from his muscular arms and body... Oh gosh, Orissa. You're an idiot. She told herself, shaking her head and focusing on his question. What was it? She asked herself, racking her brain for an answer. She didn't want to stand there, not answering, looking like an idiot. Ahh, yes. I asked him what he does, so he probably asked me what I like to do.

She thought about it for a bit. What did she like to do? Oh, there was so much she loved to do, and so many things in the world that she could enjoy. From her hobbies, like painting, drawing, sculpting, singing (though she wasn't amazing), running, and climbing trees, to the little things, like listening to the Mockingjays echo a tune, watching the graceful gait of a deer, or just enjoying the world around her. She also loved to "people-watch", as she called it. She would sit on the rickety, old, dark brown bench outside the largest bakery in District 7 and watch the people passing by. If she noticed someone that was sticking around for a while, she would draw them. Or if she saw someone who regularly came past that spot, she would come back every day for weeks on end to draw that person. She had an entire people-watching sketchbook, which was with her at that very moment, tucked away in a pocket in her bag. Cole called her people-watching "stalking", and often told her to knock it off, because some people might find it creepy or even suspicious. But Jason, being the complete opposite, would tag along with her, watching her gentle pencil strokes turn from grey lines of graphite into a picture that looked so real it was as if you could reach out and touch it.

To add to all these things, Orissa loved a good competition. No matter what the sport or activity, if a word close to compete was mentioned, Orissa would be there. She excelled in art, speed, creativity, and climbing-related activities, but seemed to lag in competitions involving axes, agility, and accuracy/throwing. She was of average knowledge and swimming ability. But when Orissa took part in these friendly competitions, she made sure to do her best, though if her best wasn't first place, she didn't lose with grace. Once she yelled at the ref after she was proclaimed second in an art competition for having no taste, and not knowing what real art was if it smacked him across the face.

Orissa realized she had been thinking for a little too long, so she said, "Well... I like to draw, climb trees, and run, mostly. Those are the things I'm best at and, therefore, enjoy the most. But I also like to sing. Oh, and swim, just like you. Though I'm not that spectacular at those two things. I mean, I'm alright..." she rubbed her arm, laughing nervously. What was with her and the nervous giggled today? She probably sounded like a ditzy little girl. Great. You're ruining your chances... She thought, annoyed with herself. Trying not to show this, she continued, "You know, we should race sometime. Swimming or running, you pick. Either way, I will totally kick your butt." She said, her voice taking a challenging tone and a mischievous grin spreading across her face. She placed her delicate hands on her hips and looked at him with her playfully narrowed, bright green eyes.

Orissa looked like she was racking her brain, trying to come up with a small list of interests. Aspen smiled at the fact she was lost in thought, and he watched her go through her thought process.
"Well... I like to draw, climb trees, and run, mostly. Those are the things I'm best at and, therefore, enjoy the most. But I also like to sing. Oh, and swim, just like you. Though I'm not that spectacular at those two things. I mean, I'm alright..." Orissa said, before rubbing her arm, and giving off a nervous laugh. Aspen couldn't help but feel that she was nervous because of her present company, a thought that Aspen relished.
"You know, we should race sometime. Swimming or running, you pick. Either way, I will totally kick your butt." She said, her face suddenly taking on a mischievous grin. She put her hands on her hips and narrowed her eyes; she was asking for it.
“Is that a challenge?” Aspen asked, flashing an impossibly charming grin and crossing his arms. If there was only one thing he was more skilled at than axe wielding, it was long-distance running. Swimming would be a different story; being self-taught, he wasn’t the greatest swimmer. He was good enough to not drown, but that’s it.
"You sing too, eh? I sing a little bit as well. Don't know if you heard me singing 'The Hanging Tree', but yeah..."
And he was lost for words again.

Aspen seemed to light up at her mentioning a race. "Is that a challenge?" He asked, flashing a bright, pearly white smile that would melt a girl like butter. But Orissa was too in the zone to be charmed. When she turned on her competitive nature, there was nothing--not even a boy's good looks and charm--that got in her way. "Yes, it is." She said, shifting her weight to the other side so that her left hip jutted out, "I bet I'll leave you in the dust." She said, winking slyly at him. "We'll settle this later, though." She said, sitting back down on the ground. Orissa patted a spot in the grass next to her, beckoning for him to sit down. She hugged her knees, resting her chin on her knee caps. She then turned her head so she was looking up at Aspen as he said, "You sing too, eh? I sing a little bit as well. Don't know if you heard me singing 'The Hanging Tree', but yeah..." He trailed off, seeming to be at a loss for words.

She smiled at him, trying to make him feel more comfortable. "No, I actually didn't." She let go of her knees and layed down, locks of her long, dark brown hair sprawled all over the grass beneath her head. She put both her hands underneath her head and sighed. The wind was slowing down now. It was no longer tangling her hair or howling in her ears, but rather it was blowing cool air onto her face. The light breeze felt good. She continued on his comment, "Maybe you could sing it for me." She hoped she didn't sound stupid asking this, but she wanted to hear his voice. Orissa loved listening to people sing. She remembered her mother used to be an amazing singer... used to sing her a lullaby every night. The one she contantly sang by her bedside was one very popular in all the Districts, especially the Lower Districts. It was called, "Mountain Air." Funny thing was, the song mentioned a "meadow, hidden far away." A meadow, in Orissa's mind, very similar to the one she was in right now. She let the voice of her mother singing that familiar lullaby fill her mind. When she finished playing the song in her mind, she locked eyes with Aspen and pleaded. Not with words, but with her captivating emerald green eyes.

"Maybe you could sing it for me?" Orissa said, then giving a look of pleading to Aspen, one that reminded Aspen of the pleading looks he used to give to his father when he was begging him to take Aspen to work with him. Aspen looked into her emerald eyes, and his palms began to sweat.
"Well, uh..." He said, at a loss for words. Girls never had this effect on him before…why was Orissa so different?
Those eyes. Those green, green eyes.
He could tell when girls liked him before, but there was something about Orissa that was different. Aspen wanted to learn more about her; there had to be something that made her the way she was, and how she came to find this clearing.
"Let's...make...this...interesting." Aspen said, slowly finding his words again. "I challenge you to a race. If you beat me, I sing. If I beat you...well, you call it."
That should do it.

"Well, uh..." He stammered. Orissa couldn't help but notice how adorable it was when he stammered... it was just so endearing! She giggled to herself. Oh gosh, how embarrassing. She thought, immediately clapping a hand over her mouth. Her laugh was far from cute... If anything, it disgusted people. She felt her cheeks begin to warm, and knew she was blushing. Thank gosh I have dark skin... With her tan skin, it would be hard to see the rosy red color that her cheeks turned when she was embarrassed. If it was bad enough, the color would spread around her entire face. She smiled, trying to mask her nervousness. What was wrong with her?

"Let's...make...this...interesting," Aspen sad slowly, a light flickering in his eyes. "I challenge you to a race. If you beat me, I sing. If I beat you...well, you call it." She grinned even wider at the mention of competition. "Really think you can take me on?" She asked, mischief shining in her eyes. "I have to warn you, I out ran my older cousin, Cole. He's taller than me, too." She failed (purposely) to mention that Cole also happened to be a lot bigger than she was. Oh well, what he didn't know couldn't hurt him, could it? She raised her eyebrows and said, "Alrighty then, let's do this. Now... if I lose..." She thought about it for a long while. What could she offer? "I have no idea. You pick." She laughed.

((I am SO SORRY I've been slacking on this. I had some family issues come up, and haven't been able to be online recently. I'll try harder to keep up with this in the future!))

Orissa laughed, and Aspen thought her laugh was cute. Her reaction told him that she thought the opposite.
"Really think you can take me on?" She asked, with mischief in her eyes.
"I have to warn you, I out ran my older cousin, Cole. He's taller than me, too."
Aspen smiled at her attempt to threaten him. Aspen wouldn't give up that easily. Not with a bet on the line that would result in him singing if he lost. He hadn’t sang in front of anybody since Marlena…he didn’t want to think about her, or the song that he so frequently sang in front of her: the one he sang on the way to the clearing.
"Alrighty then, let's do this. Now... if I lose…I have no idea. You pick."
She laughed again, and Aspen looked into her eyes. He tried to think of something for her to do if-when she lost.
“Hmm. I don’t know that much about you. How about if you lose, you have to tell me a secret. Something that nobody else knows.”

((That's TOTALLY fine. Don't stress about it! ))

Aspen smiled down at her as she attempted to make a threat. Sure, Cole was tall, but Aspen was even taller. Suddenly, she feared that she might lose the race. But she pushed the fear to the back of her mind. If you didn't compete with intensity and surety in yourself, then you would lose. At least, that is what she believed, as well as Cole. He taught her to be a fierce competitor, just like he was, never showing hint of fright or doubt. Jason, on the other hand, taught her to enjoy life, to do things the fun way, so she had a mix of both their personalities.

She grinned back at him, determination burning deep within her like a newly-kindled fire. It burned on and on until it was a large flame, about ready to incinerate her chest. Aspen looked at her with the exact same look of high self-esteem. “Hmm. I don’t know that much about you. How about if you lose, you have to tell me a secret. Something that nobody else knows.” Orissa pondered the thought for a little bit. What did she have to share with him? Something no body in the world knew about her? She told Jason soo much, since Cole didn't have the time or will to listen... so finding something she had kept a secret to herself would be difficult. Maybe you should tell him about your secret crush you've had on him since... well... forever! She thought this would be a good opportunity to tell him her feelings, but she waved the thought away. He'd probably be creeped out with that. But what else was there to share? That might be her only, true secret... She continued to mull over options in her head, and each time she thought of a juicy one she realized she had told at least one other person, if not, multiple people. Got it! A secret flashed into her mind, burning there like a wad of hot metal. Yes, this would be the perfect secret.

"Alright, sounds like a deal." She laughed, holding out her dainty little hand, reaching for his rather forcefully, and shaking it. "No turning back now." She said quietly. She realized that in the heat of the moment she got extremely close to him. Orissa began backing away, but ndid not take her determined emerald green eyes off of him.

Those eyes.
Aspen was having an inner debate with himself. Should he let her win so she can hear him sing? Should he win, so he can hear her secret? What was he supposed to do?
His competitive side was egging him on: you can beat her. You don't want to LOSE, to a GIRL.
His polite side, however, disagreed: let the lady win, Aspen. You don't want to come off as a jerk.
He figured he’d cross that bridge when he came to it. Now he had to set the terms. He pulled off his sweatshirt and grabbed it by the sleeves.
“I’m going to go tie this to a tree on the other side of the cave. First one to touch that tree, come back and touch THAT tree-“ He said, pointing to a massive oak tree about 50 yards away from them, “is the winner.”
He ran out through the cave, and found a tree about 50 yards from the cave and tied his sweatshirt to it. He came back to the clearing and stood next to Orissa.
“On three?”

Aspen began walking towards the cave. Over his shoulder he said, “I’m going to go tie this to a tree on the other side of the cave. First one to touch that tree, come back and touch THAT tree-“ He gestured to a large oak tree far away from them, "is the winner." Orissa watched him enter the cave and walk further into its depths until he was out of sight, completely swallowed by the darkness inside. She grinned to herself. The race would be blind for some parts, like when they raced through the cave. She'd have to be careful. Thankfully, she was very nimble and light. Judging by Aspen's stature, he was a little less than stellar when it came to things like gracefully dodging. There would be her advantage, the thing that she would have to use if she stood a chance of winning. See, Orissa was very good at this. Before a competition, she'd scrutinize each of her opponents, picking apart their weaknesses and then used that against them during the competition.

Aspen re-entered the clearing, a smile spread on his face, too. He stood next to Orissa. Orissa could feel the pulse of his heart, as well as her own. They both seemed a little nervous. Of course, they both had a lot on the line. "On three?" He asked, getting in a starting position. "Mhhmm." She hummed, readying herself for the race. Her muscles were coiled, ready to send her flying as soon as the word was uttered. "One... ta-three!" She shouted, rushing the last two numbers together in an attempt to take Aspen by surprise and give herself a head start. She pushed off the ground, pulling ahead of Aspen and racing through the cave's entrance.

The pathway was lighted for a while by dim light that filtered through the entrance, but as she pulled deeper and deeper into the cave, darkness ebbed at the faint light until there was none left. She slowed herself down. Only about a minute's walk through the cave was completely dark, then she'd be able to run again. Her heart began to speed up as she heard Aspen's loud footstep's not only thunder behind her, but come very close to her and pass her. He was ahead. She decided to pick up the pace and jog through the darkness. Everything went fine for the first thirty seconds she was in the darkness, but when her toe caught on a rock she tumbled to the rocky cave floor. The impact caused air to rush out of her lungs. She felt as though she was suffocating, all alone, in the dark. The thought horrified her. What if no one ever found her? She'd rot alone, in the cave. But she soon realized that she was fine, and breathing again.

Picking herself off the ground, she continued through the cave until she got to its exit. The light that met her was so wondrous that she wanted to kiss the ground. But she had to finish the race. She pushed on, hoping he hadn't already gotten to the tree.

"One...ta-three!" Orissa shouted, and then took off.
"HEY! No fair!" Aspen shouted after her, but she was off like a bullet. Aspen dug his foot into the ground and sprung forward off of it, determined to catch up to her. He entered the mouth of the cave, and was quickly plunged into darkness. He could tell he was catching up to Orissa, but didn't want to bump into her, so he swerved to the left. He ran a few more steps before his arm met a sharp rock, cutting a rather large and deep gash into his bicep.
"Gahh!" He gasped in pain, but kept running. He touched his arm with his right hand, and his fingers met his blood. His mother was going to kill him.
He kept pushing forward, and eventually passed Orissa. A few seconds after he passed her, he heard Orissa trip over a rock and fall. He thought for a split second about helping, but decided to keep pushing on; she would probably be mad at him if he let her win.
He finally came to the end of the tunnel, and burst through the light. His eyes stung as his pupils tried to shrink, and he ducked and weaved past some trees to re-find the tree his sweatshirt was tied to. He spotted the blue fabric, and ran straight for it. He touched the tree with his right hand, leaving some bloody fingerprints on the bark.
He turned on his heels and headed for the cave again. He passed Orissa on the way back, and flashed her a smile. He re-entered the cave, making sure to stay as close to the middle as possible, to avoid cutting himself again. He could feel the blood coming out of his arm and run down it. Hopefully the river was clean.
Aspen finally reached the clearing again, and pressed on just a bit farther to reach the large oak tree he pointed out as the finish line. When he reached it, he stopped running and leaned against the tree to take a closer look at his arm.
He heard Orissa come back, and he waited a few seconds before she reached the tree.
"Well, we both hurt ourselves in this silliness." Aspen said with a laugh. "I think I got the worst of it."