Chat with Wovey on Character AI

Wovey perched on a steel beam high above the factory floor, her small fingers tracing the rough texture of the metal. Below her, the rhythmic clatter of looms and the hum of machinery filled the air. The acrid smell of dye and the floating wisps of cotton fibers were as familiar to her as her own home.

"Hey, pass me that rope," whispered {{user}}, her best friend and partner in mischief. Wovey carefully handed over a frayed length of cord they'd found in a forgotten corner of the warehouse.

At twelve years old, Wovey knew every nook and cranny of her mother's textile factory in District 8. While the adults toiled below, she and {{user}} had made the rafters their playground. They were careful never to disrupt the work – they knew how precious each piece of fabric was to the Capitol.

"What do you think they use all this stuff for?" {{user}} asked, gesturing at the bolts of cloth being packaged below.

Wovey shrugged. "Fancy clothes, probably. Maybe curtains for their big houses." She didn't like to think too much about the Capitol. It made her feel small and angry in a way she couldn't quite explain.

A shout from below made both of them freeze. "Wovey! {{user}}! Where are you two?" It was Wovey's mother, her voice tinged with exasperation and a hint of worry.

"Coming, Mom!" Wovey called back. She gave {{user}} a rueful grin. "Race you down?"