District 7

"No tribute dies peacefully and wakes up on a grassy hill to angels greeting them. Folklore is for those who wish to blind themselves with myths and live in their inner circle. They're buried in unmarked graves, forgotten, and they will be grateful for that."

- Unknown

District 7 is one of the thirteen districts of Panem. It's main industry is Lumber and though it remains unremarkable in the eyes of the Capitol, its citizens are well trained in the use of axes, both for cutting down trees and cutting down enemies.

Geography
District 7 is located in the pacific northwest of Panem. This timberland region is home to tall, gigantic trees making the landscape perfect for logging. Rivers pass through the region, providing an ample supply of water and further enhancing the district's heavenliness are cool mists that set over its valleys and mountains like a blanket. One could say that the cruelties and evils of wars have not ravaged District 7. That, or it lays buried beneath the mystique of its natural beauty.

The Redwoods
The Redwoods are where the highest class of District Seven's citizens reside and the only part where most of the native trees have been cleared out, save for a few. What used to be an expansive woodland region of trees is now a large valley clearing filled with gigantic mansions and grand commercial hubs. It's common knowledge that the Redwoods are used primarily to fuel the district's real estate industry, and quite a few Capitolites own summer homes here, buying out large acres of land and displacing the district's native inhabitants from their land. The Victor's Village is currently located here, but it's empty. The few remaining redwood trees that still grow are here, shrouding the village in shade and mysticism.

The Pines
The Pines is one of the largest territories in District 7, consisting of numerous logging towns dotted throughout the western forests. Each of these towns is small and largely self-sufficient. Life is built upon one of many logging companies which deliver directly to the Capitol. Everything about work and school will likely have a logo stamped across it. Townspeople trade away most of their autonomy to their company in exchange for a livelihood steadier than most others in District Seven can claim. Despite the Pines having a more sordid and lackluster lifestyle, with large rectangular swathes cut from the forest and machinery roaring day and night, this area boasts a rich sense of community and lush forests teeming with life.

The Yard
The Yard is a sizable region of forest dedicated to accommodating the district's criminal and poverty-stricken population. It's an internment zone, infamous for its austere productivity quotas and the harsh rule of law. Citizens of District 7 fear being sent here, an entire family can be sent to the Yard as punishment for perceived aggression against the Capitol or the districts authority. Hovels and shantytowns dot the interior of the Yard while a barbed electric fence entraps its citizens within. Some shanties are as high as the tallest Peacekeeper guard tower that oversees the zone. Destitute citizens will save up as much as they can to escape to the Pines, chopping down as many trees as possible for better pay, but it's said that those that enter the Yard will never come out. The only time anyone ever leaves is when children are reaped for the Games, which is more than likely for those living here.

Corruption
Officials turn a blind eye to almost everything, they don't want trouble, and they don't want the responsibility. They desire wealth and reputation—preferably suitable, but some want their name spread, no matter the method used. Wages are cut to a fraction of what they once were to preserve their wealth, and lumber quotas are increased dramatically. To want more is to give less. They don't accept resignations; if a worker dares to quit, rumors fly fast, and they may see themselves sent to the Yard.

Peacekeepers are as lassiez-faire as they come in District 7. They're not as harsh or flinty as those from other districts. Stealing a piece of fruit will land an individual a hefty fine, and slacking off a little and not meeting the district's quota could land someone in the stocks. A council ultimately makes decisions on behalf of the district with a democratic style of governance, although the mayor must run all decisions. It runs contrary to most of Panem. Though it may seem counterintuitive to the system, it ultimately leads to further infighting that destabilizes the district's leadership instead of strengthening it.

And yet, it isn't just the wealthy elite banking off the suffering of the miserable and downtrodden, an organized crime syndicate, known as "The Appleseeds," is why the rich choose not to aid the poor, not just their greed but their self-preservation. Originating from a family of carpenters and furniture builders, the Appleseeds have sprouted into something of a nuisance to daily life in the district. Crime scenes are rarely cleaned up, much less investigated. Missing person's reports are nothing to worry over; it's just the way life is. All this is because of the Appleseeds influence. Some would say they control the district, but such a statement would be ludicrous. Like the Hunger Games, they just bet on their winner as they rise to power before bribing them for their purposes. Not any different.

Economy
The economy of District 7 is well-developed, robust even compared to some of the larger districts of Panem. Exports of lumber-related goods and services are critical to the district's economy. Its plethora of natural resources provide it with a niche market that cannot be found elsewhere.

Before the Dark Days, steelmaking used to be a significant staple of District 7's economy, as was metal fabrication for machinery. These industries have fallen to disarray in recent times, and the district's focus has shifted entirely to lumber; however, it too has certain drawbacks. The quotas the district must maintain have had a devastating effect on the environment, displacing many native animals from their natural habitats and polluting the air with natural gases from the burning of sawdust in sawmills.

However, the district isn't utterly dependent on its natural resources as a source of income. Its cold northwest temperatures and quiet blissfulness has made it a vacationing hotspot for Capitolites seeking refuge from their metropolitan lifestyle. Many summer homes are built and sold to wealthy Capitolites; as a result, creating a great flow of income at the expense of the region's habitats and the district's citizens.

Welfare
Due to the lack of factories and the manual labor associated with the district's industry, health in District 7 is above average. Most of the district's youth are athletically fit, be it through strength or flexibility. And compared to the health problems of other districts, the only main issue of concern here is work-related accidents at the sawmills.

Schooling in District 7 is standard for Panem. A considerable percentage of the district's educated youth and adults are at least semi-literate. They teach the basics of math, science, and Panemanien history -- what is allowed to be taught, that is -- but most of all, they value literacy. A few passion-driven students will move to write captivating stories of all sorts; however, being an author pays very poorly in an economy like District 7's.

Issues of improper food supply are relatively mild. The soil remains fertile, and food imports are especially common for workers' nourishment demands. Potatoes also grow well in the wet and chilly climate of District 7, and a few families focus on farming. It isn't uncommon for vegetable stands to take up a fair portion of the markets in District 7, enriching merchants while staving off the potential deaths of starvation. The situation dissolves once winter arrives and the abundant resources turn scarce.

Local Myths
Grand tales of forest-wandering folk heroes have been passed down from generation to generation in District 7. There is even evidence that some of the district's folklore can be traced back to the ancient civilization that stood over modern-day Panem. Most of the districts mythos is oral, but there have been recent efforts to document and compile it.

Bea Boreal
Bea Boreal appears in numerous tales, each with its retellings and twists. She is usually depicted wearing simple clothes, wielding a bow and arrow. One story follows Bea Boreal as she fights against a corrupt leader-traditionally called the "Foreman." She kills him by tying an enchanted frond of fern to her arrow, then leads the people under his employ to freedom. This iconic image can be seen portrayed extensively in District Seven literature and art and has been a rallying point for many during the first rebellion. It may also explain why ferns are considered good luck charms by locals. And why the Capitol had many murals and statues dedicated to her, destroyed in the years after the Dark Days.

The Treetop Giant
The Treetop Giant is a famous tale about a giant who experiences the forest for the first time. Like the tales of Bea Boreal, this fable is ubiquitous throughout the district. Its most enthusiastic storytellers are remote and forest-dwelling communities.

According to the fable, a giant once roamed the countryside. It was so tall and so massive that its head hung perpetually in the clouds. Some sayings even say that the giant had no head, just a thick mass of water vapor atop its shoulders.

Day and night, this giant waded through the forested landscape as carelessly as a human might travel through long grass. It had no purpose other than to drift through the world, and therefore it was incredibly lonely. One day, it happened to glance down at its feet. Its legs, downward from the knees, were obscured by what looked like a feathery green ocean. It had never given a second thought to the treetops before; it was just a medium through which to travel. But, come to think of it, the giant had never stopped to consider whether there might not be something for it under the canopy. Filled with curiosity, it got down on its elbows and knees and lowered its altitudinous head beneath the treetops.

And it saw the forest. The ground laid lush with ferns and mosses—an elk bounding silently through the trees. The trill of a mockingbird, soon joined by a chorus of its fellows. The more the giant looked, the more it saw, and it wondered how it could have ever missed such beauty. According to legend, the giant remains slumbering to this day, its hands overgrown with moss and fungi but eyes still alive with happiness.

The fable has evolved to become more of a storytelling and community-building tool than a myth. The tale of the Treetop Giant is frequently retold on late nights or around a campfire. Each person tells of the giant's first glimpse of the forest differently, imbuing the story with their hopes, dreams, and experiences. Sometimes, they see too believe themselves to be like the giant, slumbering until it has finally reawakened. Mindful of the ground on which they walk.

The Germanitas
The Germanitas are forest sprites of myth, bringing good luck to those in need and living with strife. They emerged from old wive's tales of fairies in the garden that found lost things and returned them to their proper homes. In that respect, they inspired the yearly District 7 Germanitas Festival to hope that their luck could help them bring one of their tributes back home.

Held the day after the yearly reaping, the festival usually begins with a potluck feast, then spirals out into various activities, including trading, fair-style games, and music. If they wish to participate, the families of the reaped tributes are greeted with hugs and words of strength, even given gifts depending on their standing. The event isn't without issues, however, as depending on the district's food shortages, fights over meals occur from time to time.

While the Germanitas was originally an illegal act of resistance and district pride, it has now become an unofficial District-wide holiday. Groups of district-friendly Peacekeepers have also been known to play a part in the event, keeping crowds safe, helping to direct traffic flow, and even participating in the ring toss. Having grown into such a significant event, the Germanitas remains faithful to its roots, holding on to that seed of District Seven vigor and community.