Johanna bats her lashes in a coy, too sweet way that's meant to be insulting, gesturing to her very nude self as she stands with her feet shoulder-width apart. "Does it look like I have something sharp on me?" she asks, even though there's an absolute chance that she does. She reaches for a towel and wraps it around herself snugly, glancing at the small tracker after she tosses it down into a pile of sodden-wet clothes. "It's a shame Volts isn't here," she says, with a genuine note of wishing. "I bet he could come up with a dozen of the things to screw with the Capitol's minds. I'd kill for the chance to play with their minds."

And she has, so it's not that much of an exaggeration.