There have been so many situations lately in which Finnick has found himself in conversations in which the other person treats something as completely normal that is unheard of or forbidden in Panem.

"Anything like that would have been destroyed where I'm from."

There probably are ruins, or were ruins, but none of them are left except in District Thirteen, and those are only seen in the Capitol's propaganda. There's no value given to things that happened before, except for what they could do to keep the districts in their place. It was always possible to find old reruns of the Hunger Games, but not information about life before the Dark Days.

Finnick shakes his head.

"Nobody can travel out of their district without special dispensation from the Capitol. Most people never get it. You only travel on the Capitol's business."

As a victor, of course, Finnick could travel on the Capitol's business.

"Did it work?" he asks, preferring to talk about Hawke's world than his own. It seems hopelessly free, to be able to just leave if you weren't wanted somewhere, to avoid people because things had gone wrong. There had been times when he'd have loved to be able to just leave, when the judging eyes of District Four felt heavy on him as a victor when their tributes had died under his mentorship.

"Getting away, when you were too notorious?"