#;;noah.

[surviivals-a-blog]

                                               ofenduriing asked: 

                       “Your room looks like a cyclone ran through it.”

@posyhawthxrne

              her father’s words have her little head peering around the room for herself, brow furrowed in confusion before oh – okay, fair enough. it does look rather messy, but it’s justified! maybe. her mother will no doubt make her clean up all the clothes thrown across the floor later.  “  i was try’na find my pink dress! but it’s not here!  ”

        He’s already spied the pink dress, peeking out from where it’s apparently been carelessly thrown under her bed, and he’d bet a whole month of earnings that it’s the only place she DIDN’T look. He walks over and takes a seat on the mattress, pausing for a moment with a fond SMILE on his face before reaching down to pull the dress from its hiding place. “Y’mean this pink dress, right?”

[surviivals-a-blog]

@snaremaker

             “Hey, y’almost got it. C’mere. Let me show you.”

     To see his eldest boy finally old enough to join him in the woods and hunt brings a swell of pride to Noah’s heart. Life isn’t easy in the Seam, nor indeed in District 12 as a whole, but they get by and it’s moments like this that make life worth living. The simple moments. There’s only one day a week that he’s free to spend time with his family, and this is a day he’s been waiting for for years -- years he’s spent teasing his wife for being far too overprotective of their kids. With Gale learning how to scavenge and hunt and navigate the woods around 12, there’ll be more to eat as their family continues to grow. It’ll be easier to survive.

     He kneels beside the boy and gently places a hand on the bow in his grasp, shifting the angle just slightly so the arrow has a better chance of hitting its mark. They’re working with a wooden target for now -- less chance of it running away if his boy misses a shot.

        “Aim just there. Relax; make sure you take a breath before you shoot. If you tense up, you might snap the bow off to the side and miss, but you gotta make sure it’s a clean kill, see? ‘Cause you don’t want the animals to suffer. It’s gotta be quick. That’s why we start with the wooden target. No sense hurtin’ anything for no good reason.”

[surviivals-a-blog]

@matriixrch

     He’s doing his best to regain his strength, but the healing process is a slow and painful one. Sometimes, he thinks he should’ve died down there. It’s some kind of INJUSTICE that they managed to drag him out, closest to the entrance and conscious enough to scream with the pain of rocks and dirt crushing his legs and an open wound where his pickaxe snagged his left arm. He should’ve died with his friends; his brothers -- brave, GOOD men who deserved their lives just as much as anyone else; men with FAMILIES to provide for. It’s his family that keeps him brave; keeps him FIGHTING when at times it’s so tempting to collapse under the grief and survivors guilt. He’s doing his best to remain strong for them, but as he tries to take a step without the cane supporting his weight, his right leg gives and triggers a burst of pain too unbearable for him not to cry out.

                        “Oh God----!”