Finnick stares openly at the sprawling expanse of playground in front of him openly for several seconds. It's already been months since he's been in regular schooling and certainly deprived of any sort of time dedicated to mere play. Sure, he's still expected to learn the odd thing about numbers and letters, but most of his time is now devoted to how to make fishhooks, how to build fires, and how to find fresh water. (And training on how to become fast and fit, although those lessons aren't nearly so overt yet.)

It's an uncharacteristic moment for him, where he's not sure -- Is this some kind of odd test? Is he allowed to be here? He eyes the swings with an obvious interest, remembering how to go up and down with a few pumps of his legs. Really, he expects Mags to show up any moment and grab him by the ear to take him back down to the beach.

But there's no sign of his mentor for the time being, so he decides he's going to make the most of it. He scrambles across the playground, halted only by the sight of a boy on the ground. He stops, unabashedly friendly and curious, even at this young.

"What are you doing?" he asks, peering down at him.