Okay the first attempt didn't come out the way I wanted it to so I am changing the plot of the story. I am coming up with it as I go so bare with me
This is a short chapter just as an intro. The back story will come next
I do not own the Hunger Games or its characters
The sun is just starting to dip into the sky, illuminating it in glorious shades of red, orange and pink mixed with the blue. Along the horizon two providers for their families are riding home. It has been a,typical, but still long day for them, up since four o'clock.
The two boys are cousins and considered the men of the house. Although related they do not shared any similarities. Gale, twenty-four, is over six feet with light brown hair and aquamarine eyes. He is lean but muscular. His cousin Peeta is shy of twenty-two. Not quite reaching in height like Gale but he is of good stature, broad shouldered. His bright blonde hair lays in curls that drop in his sky blue eyes.
They live with Gale's mother Hazelle on their ranch. Gale's father died when he was nine. The Hawthorne's have lived there for the past sixteen years. He has two younger brother Rory and Vick. Rory is thirteen and is the spitting image of Gale with brown hair and steel blue eyes. Vick, age twelve, came out like Hazelle but with his black hair and her brown eyes.
Peeta and his siblings also live with Hazelle. Parker, fifteen, and Pax, fourteen, both have their fathers brown hair but Parker has his gray eyes while Pax has their mothers blue.
The boys reach their properties gate and swing it open. After Peeta locks it they ride to the barns to settle their horse for the night. The porch lights are on in their two story home and smells of dinner cooking greet them.
Leaving the barn until tomorrow morning, when they start all over again, and they enter the house. The smell of a delicious stew welcomes them home. They chuck off their boots by the door and hand their hats on the coat rack. Laughter is heard from somewhere upstairs as they make their way to the kitchen.
"Boys is that you?" the voice of Hazelle Hawthorn calls from somewhere in the house. They stop by the laundry room to strip off their dirty work shirts and sock staying in their tattered jeans and whit under shirts.
"Yeah Ma" Gale calls back. They enter the large country kitchen where Hazelle is stirring a large pot of stew. On her hip sits two year old Posy. She giggles when the boys each peck her cheeks. They then kiss Hazelle when they notice she isn't herself.
"Aunt Hazel what's going on?" Peeta asks seeing his aunts distressed face as she turns to them.
"Ma?" Gale asks her softly. Unshed tears are in her eyes. He cups her face trying to decipher what is wrong.
"Boys" a raspy voice says from behind them. They whirl around, staring into the bloodshot blue eyes of Haymitch Abernathy.
"Uncle Haymitch?" Peeta asks unsure looking at the man he hasn't seen in years since his other uncle died. His blonde hair like Hazelle looks oily and is past his chin which is full of stubble. His clothes are wrinkled like he has slept in them. He probably has.
"Gale. Peeta. Long time" he says nodding his head. He and Hazelle do share similar features besides her brown eyes to his blue ones.
"What is going on? Why is he here?" Gale asks looking to his mother. She puts down her wooden spoon and takes a deep breath.
"Just listen boys" Hazelle urges. Gale takes Posy from his mother. She clings to his neck.
"No, why is he here?" Gale demands pointing at the man.
"Back your bag boys. All of you" Haymitch says looking at all wall over their shoulders.
"Why?" Peeta asks him. Hazelle takes Posy back knowing her sons temper is rising. Gale crosses his arms over his chest and glares at the old man.
"Where are we going?" Rory asks curiously from behind Gale. Peeta glances over his shoulder to see Rory and Vick looking excitedly. His eye catches that of his younger two brothers Parker and Pax soon join them hearing the conversation. Parker has four year old Prim in his arms. Gale keeps his eyes on their so called uncle waiting for an answer.
"Home" he simply says.