"If you're lucky, it'll be your pinkies," she says, with an inclination of her chin towards his nether-regions where little Finnick lives. She wouldn't really have many qualms about doing that to an enemy and so long as Finnick stays on her good side, she wouldn't do it to a friend. "I may have a whole life ahead of me, but I'm hardly whole goods now. If I go back, I get to be splintered apart by the Capitol."

"Some things, we don't get," she says, shaking her head. "And that's okay," she admits, raising her fingers to get them the bottle, rather than just another round.