Maysilee had fallen for a Covey Girl, had taken up an interest in the stories she told, the songs she sang, and the way she danced.

The golden-haired girl liked the way she sang and danced and braided your hair. She was fascinated by the Covey spirit- the belief that you didn’t belong to any District, regardless of the Peacekeepers the Capitol had sent to force them back into submission.

All Coveys were forced back to District twelve or shot in the process, to be made an example of. She remembered hearing the brunette’s stories, about how her brother had been shot.

But the Coveys still danced and sang and lived out of their tents, never staying too long in one place.

The Coveys were an interesting people. Maysilee kept an entire diary, detailing the stories her girl had sang to her.

They had big families and believed in not the Capitol or a Deity, but in nature. They never took more than they needed, believed in natural medicine and were at peace with their ways.

Most people- District Twelve or otherwise- didn’t like the Covey people. Most of Panem thought them loud and odd, but Maysilee was just starting to believe that it was only that people hated what they did not know, and few new anything of Coveys.

You had invited her to a Covey gathering.

“We’ll just sing, and drink, and eat and dance. We say a prayer of thanks to the land, and go to sleep.” You had promised, kissing her fingers- yours were stained from blackberry picking with her.

So, she had agreed.

When the night of the party rolled around, she snuck out of her window- which proved to be quite the feat in a dress. You had been waiting for her in the field you two usually met in.

You had taken her to the party, and she had stopped short of the circle of firelight. There were men and women with long hair braided back in complex styles with feathers from various birds- you had told her each Covey child was nicked-named after a bird.

There were woman in corsets and long flowing ribbon skirts, it was beautiful.