"There you are, my dear!" her stylist, Amarathine, said in her squeaky voice with the strange capital accent, motioning for her to spin. Oakley spun slowly, looking in the mirror as she went. Her stylists had just put the final touches to her costume. She was wearing a dark green outfit and she has flowers woven to her fur, adding a feminine touch to the garb. The outfit was based on poison ivy, a common plant in her district, but it seemed the capital citizens knew of it, too. She looked deadly. Beautiful. Like someone who could put on a show. She put on her most winning grin. Perfect. She took a deep breath, glancing around at her assembled prep team. They were all giving her reassuring smiles and fawning over her outfit, which, admittedly, was gorgeous. "Thank you, thank you." she murmured to them. With all their other faults, they were at least giving her this. She could thank them for this. She paused for a moment, allowing them a few more seconds to touch up her braids, or straighten a flower. Then, she headed for her chariot. She couldn't see outside, but she assumed they'd be heading down the capital avenue, showing off their outfits. Once stepping inside the chariot, she could sense it was field themed. Of course. The whole thing seemed to be woven out of some sort of grain, like a basket. There were small models of fruit, bread and other resources heaped around the basket-chariot. She waited for the chariot to begin moving, digging her long claws into the woven floor. Suddenly, it gave a violent lurch and started forward. Now she could see where she was. In the sky. That explained the lurch, and the strange absence of noise. She was startled only for a short second, then assumed her winning grin, waving at the Capitol crowd assembled below her. She spotted a basket of flowers in the corner, and grabbed a handful, slightly crumpling a few. She threw them out into the crowd, watching as they drifted down through the sky into the waiting hands of citizens. She saw several lanterns floating through the sky, bearing the numbers of all the districts, in their trademark colors. Her district, District 9, was wheat-yellow, and it reminded her a bit of the fields at home. She felt a slight pang of homesickness, but she shoved it away as quickly as it came. This was her time to shine. As her balloon drifted closer and closer to the ground, she grabbed another handful of flowers and threw them to the ground, shouting out to the crowd, "Hey everyone! My name's Oakley, and I'm from District 9, and I'm ready to give you all the biggest show of your lives!!" She continued to grin, wave, and throw flowers on the way down, until the balloon finally touched down and the crowds began to disperse. There. She had done it. She just hoped it was enough.
