There's a look that kids from the industrial districts get. Pale, because they never see much of the sun, skinny, because they never get enough to eat. Scared, because who in Panem isn't scared, and the kids he sees from those districts have plenty of reason to be scared, because mostly, they're going to die within a few weeks.

The kid Annie pulled out of the fountain is like that, and oddly enough, it's something that makes sense to Finnick in a place that makes no sense. So many of the people here look like they never knew a day's hardship in their life until they arrived here, and, well.

There's nobody in Panem who's never known hardship outside the Capitol.

So Finnick's been keeping an eye on the kid. This morning, though, he's not actually watching out for him. He's on his way out to the woods, feeling decidedly too hot in his coat since the sudden mystery heat (and occasional fire) started.

But he sees the way the kid looks when he realizes he's spoken, and he's seen that look too many times.

"It's not like where I'm from, either," Finnick admits, glancing at the trident he's carrying to make sure he's not about to set the thing on fire again.

(There are scorch marks on the wood.)