Name: Cale Burdock
Nickname: Cale
Age: 15
District: 4
Personality: Cale's always been a naturally upbeat sort of person and is usually known for being the optimistic one. However, he uses his jokes and smiles to often hide what he really thinks or feels about something, he's really a pretty deep thinker under all that and good at analyzing circumstances and people. He enjoys working, or doing anything so long as his hands are kept busy, sitting idle for a long period of time tends to make him anxious. He is a fisherman by trade, like his father and brothers, but when he's not helping with the nets he enjoys swimming and spends most of his free time along the coast with his friends.
Background: Cale was born into a relatively wealthy family in District 4 and grew up learning the trade of his District, which was mainly fishing. The youngest of three brothers, Cale learned quite a bit from them in his early years. Suffice it to say he grew up quickly, and is quite mature for his age. Like most District 4 children, he had taken the mandatory training courses that were desiged to prepare for the annual Hunger Games, although he had not become particularly adept at any one weapon, he was very studious at learning the survival skills, because those were actually useful to him in his day-to-day life, or so he imagined.
Strengths: Swimming, survival, spotting, endurance, good insticts.
Weaknesses: Hesitant in decision-making, spontaneous, impulsive.
Second Tribute: Heather Druid - 13 with anger issues.
Cale Burdock stood with his peers in the designated area in the town square. It was a large and normally spacious courtyard, but today it was packed to the brim with every single person in the District. Banners and flags hung around, marking the gathering to be a festive one. There was the loud hum of conversation, the other boys jostled each other and talked excitedly amongst themselves, when one or two of his friends noticed him, Cale would grin back, a bright smile that masked his nervousness. A lot of them wanted to go, yearned for their name to be drawn. Cale didn't know whether or not he wanted to, though. He'd watch the games every year, just like everyone else, and he really quite enjoyed them for the most part. He had never really considered being a tribute though, except on days like today, on reaping days, where there was chance--albeit a small one, his name had never been put in more than the required amount of times--that he might be chosen.
He glanced to his left, a few paces away stood his elder brother, Mauve. He was eighteen, tall and broad-shouldered with the same black hair bleached brown by the sun. His skin was darkly tanned from long hours standing out in the boats, or on the docks. Mauve wanted to go, he always trained hard, he always entered his name more than once to improve his odds of being drawn. The two brothers' eyes met for a moment, and they shared a look between them, a silent acknowledgement of the other's presence and state of mind. Each knew what the other was thinking, no words were necessary. Cale strained his neck, trying to see through the crowd and spot the rest of his family; his parents and Asher, who was too old to be a tribute.
He faced round front again and nervously plucked at his shirt. It was bright blue with silver buttons, blue as the sky, and offset by his black trousers. The clothes were stiff and new, and uncomfortable. But the shoes were by far the worst: hard and unyeilding, he could barely wiggle his toes. He would have much rather been wearing open sandals, or just have gone barefooted like he would on a normal day. His mother always frowned on that.
"Hey!" a hand on his shoulder. Cale turned to find himself face-to-face with Sorrel, a freckle-faced boy with bright red hair, also his best friend. The two clasped arms and embraced, and when they stood back Cale's smile was genuine.
"Late, as usual," he chided the red-haired boy. Sorrel just shrugged and countered by saying he hadn't missed anything important. In truth, he was just in time, because the Capitol's representative had just stepped up to the podium. A hush fell over the crowd as he tapped the microphone, then began to speak. He had a pleasant voice, sort of sing-song and charismatic. His streaked green and white hair was only a little distracting. He started off with a warm welcome to everyone who had come to the reaping, but Cale noticed that he tended to address the cameras just as much as the people in the square. Then he went off about a short history of the Hunger Games, and why they were so important, and how honored he was to be there. His name was Byron, Cale recalled. At this point the boy was zoning out a little bit, he'd heard all this before. Unbeknowest to him, his foot began tapping out a rhythm on the cobblestone pavement.
"Just pick the names already," he muttered impatiently, eyes locked on the two enormous globes that held who-knew-how-many slips of paper, each with a name on it, the name of one of the kids gathered here in the square. Two of them would be picked.
"...Let's see now," Byron was saying. He stood in front of the boys' globe and reached one manicured hand with long painted fingernails inside. He dug around for a bit, then stood back, holding one small scrap of white paper. "And District 4's male tribute for this year's Hunger Games is..." he paused for dramatic effect, then read the name.
Cale's jaw dropped. His name had been called. Those who knew him turned to look, Sorrel was pounding on his back in congratulations, but Cale still didn't believe it.
"Cale Burdock," Byron repeated, "Come on forward, son."
A shove from someone got his feet moving, and he walked up the steps to the podium in a daze. Byron shook his hand and congratulated him. A group of his friends were cheering his name. He just blinked and forced a smile, then raised a hand to wave. He spotted his family, his father and eldest brother stood tall, but beside them his mother was weeping silently, her face buried in a handkerchief.
The girl's name was called next, Heather Druid. Cale didn't know her. As she climbed up to join them on the platform, she had a haughty look on her face. She was only thirteen, but acted much older, and her manner suggested that she felt completely entitled to be District 4's female tribute. She shot Cale a cold look and then smiled for the crowd, and Cale could only wonder what would happen next.




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