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<span>Spoiler: <span class="bbCodeSpoiler-button-title">Ryker Blackwood</span></span>
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Age: 18<br/>
District 7 - Lumberjack-</div>
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</div><br/>Trees were something easily understood to Ryker, harvesting, sawing, climbing. It's what he did day in and day out, scale dozens of trees, tag their tops and saw them down to size to make it easier for those of less nimble body on the ground to bring down the rest of the lumber. Of course being a lumberjack wasn't the safest profession, but within the walls of District 7, trees were quite literally the only means of making a living and, like his father and older sister, Ryker rose at the break of dawn, sharpened his axe, and didn't lay it down again until nightfall.<br/><br/>Or, well, actually sometimes he set it aside to slip away to the carpenters' workshop.<br/><br/>"Hope you weren't waiting too long," Silas shot him a bright smile, which set Ryker's pulse racing for a brief moment. While trees were something he understood, the butterflies his childhood friend stirred within his stomach, now those were not something he'd quite wrapped his mind around yet. "Of course not, just got here." Actually he'd been waiting for a good twenty minutes, but he'd wait an hour to have much with Silas if he had to. The blonde boy tossed his gloves onto the bench beside him and set about arranging a light meal between the two, a couple of boiled eggs, a stale loaf of rye and Ryker was surprised to see a small cake as well. "Where did you...?"<br/><br/>"I scrounged up a few things, had Ma bake it for you since I can't cook worth shit." Silas seemed almost shy as he pushed the cake towards Ryker, it's sugary glaze very tempting indeed, and it's ingredients undoubtedly difficult to come by, but Ryker was more interested in Silas's lips as he spoke. "I know your birthday isn't for a few days, but..."<br/><br/>Next thing he knew, Ryker had leaned forward against his better judgement and clasped his friend's collar, crushing their lips together in an awkward tangle of inexperience, their bodies bowed across the bench over a baked confection that meant more than Silas could know. As his mind caught up with his actions, Ryker hastily pulled back, apologies spilling forth from reddened lips. "I'm sorry, I-I don't know what that was..."<br/><br/>He could see the shock in his friend's impossibly blue eyes, but not the anger or disgust he expected.  Instead, as panic filled him to the brim, Ryker was pulled forward in a much sweeter manner, Silas's lips more gentle and sure than his own had been. They parted sooner than he would have liked. "Well, whatever it was," Silas smiled, "I liked it."<br/><br/>The happiness that filled him at hearing those words was sweeter than any cake.<br/><br/>The rest of his afternoon breezed by, Rykers body doing the manual labor, his head on cloud nine and an extra pep to his step. That pep waned, however, as the thought crossed his mind what Silas had likely done to afford the sugar and eggs for his birthday cake.<br/><br/>Taking tesserae for him? Suddenly Ryker was angry. Or worried. He couldn't decide. That was, what? The fourth time Silas had accepted another entry in exchange for his family's grain and oil? The thought of hearing his friends name called at the reaping had nausea in the pit of his stomach. Even more than hearing his own. Still, after he'd bid his father and sister goodnight, he lay his head on his pillow with the taste of Silas still on his lips. And he couldn't be happier.<br/><br/>Except tomorrow was the last reaping before his nineteenth birthday would finally come and Ryker had a sinking feeling that things had been going far too well for him over the past few days.<br/><br/><a class="username" data-user-id="240" data-username="@Austin121" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/240/">@Austin121</a>