<div class="floatleft">(http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w310/Sparrowhawke/02958c73-a083-4d4d-99ae-2a4ea5a76c9a_zps4d0a3f6b.jpg) (http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w310/Sparrowhawke/Garrett1_zpsce231e4c.jpg)</div><strong>Who:</strong>Garrett Wylder<br/><strong>With:</strong>Rybbon Latimer, Caligus Occisus<br/><strong>Where:</strong>Backstage<br/><br/>Garrett kept smiling as the pair talked, his attention slowly drifting back towards the food as they did. It was so very strange to have food in front of him and not want to eat it. Well, he wanted to eat it, he was just pretty sure he’d explode all over the place if he did. He was wondering if he should risk just a<em>few</em>more bites when Caligus spoke to him again.<br/><br/>“Which bird?” He paused for a moment, he really hadn’t thought that far. But before long, the solution offered itself. “A mockingjay.” He gave a small, short nod. “They’re so good at singing...” That, and the fact that they could come and go as they liked. The fence was of no concern to them, nor the capitol or the games. But these thoughts did not cause his smile to falter. Freedom was a nice idea, something to daydream about all he liked, but it was not his, and he accepted that.<br/><br/>He looked back at Caligus, only then realizing his gaze had been drifting as he thought. An idea had occurred to him, since they were on the subject of interviews. “Can you remember your first word?” His grin was wide and innocent, as if that were a perfectly normal question to ask in response. He<em>did</em>say he had good memory, after all.