"Well, don't drop him," Finnick answers wryly, a teasing smile on his face as he closes the short distance between them, carefully transferring Tristan into the cradle of Johanna's arms.

"Just support his head," Finnick instructs, his tone a little more serious, his hand still lingering near his son's head. "And he should be okay." Finnick answered, looking back up at Johanna, the second part half intended to be a continuation of his sentence, half intended to be in response to the last thing Johanna had said.