<div class="floatleft">(http://images.wikia.com/dragonball/images/4/44/Olivia_Wilde_-_my_heroine.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong>Rybbon Latimer, mentor<br/><strong>With:</strong>Garrett Wylder, others<br/><strong>Where:</strong>backstage at the table<br/><br/>Rybbon turned to better face the smallish man-boy addressing her. “I’m Rybbon, Garrett. Welcome to the Capitol. I hope you can enjoy yourself while you are here.” She realized that the message was one of temporary being – that he might focus on where he was going next or become sore at the idea of trying to enjoy his pre-death stay. She’d hoped to express her sincerity, meaning every word.<br/><br/>She lifted her glass and sipped the purple strata while the fingertips of her other hand toyed with the hanging end of the ribbon in her hair, matching what he saw with what he’d heard of her name. She glanced him over while he ate. The strangest impression of flora hit her senses as she looked at him. Maybe it was the reddish sheen to his hair, still fluffed from the all-body dryers within the tributes’ private bathrooms.<br/><br/>It was hard to place him from the parade at first... recalling him as half naked and much darker…<em>oh yes, District 12, coal dust as a covering.</em>She smiled, lowering her eyes for a moment, recalling how muscular the dark makeup had made him look and comparing the too-thin man before her.<br/><br/>“You can’t be any older than I was at my reaping,” she commented aloud, surprised at herself for bringing up her own experience with the games. Hiding her discomfort, she sipped toward the crimson waiting at the bottom of her crystal flute, watching him. She'd meant to sound encouraging, comparing their ages in similarity when both selected for their Games. She in turn was enjoying his obvious pleasure as the food comforted and nourished him. She placed her glass down and reached out for a small collection of fruit and a soft roll, smearing a rich white cheese over the inside of the broken bread.<br/>