<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, Caligus Occisus<br/><strong>Where:</strong>backstage at the table<br/><br/><em>A mockingjay and a jabberjay together at the table, hm…</em><br/><br/>Rybbon was glad she’d not had to answer that question about what animal she’d be. That hadn’t been one of the questions Caesar had asked the tributes back in the 57th Games. There was no clever answer from her, nothing witty to cause the audience a laugh. In fact, she quite admired Caesar’s methods of drawing a shy or reclusive interview out. He was a genius at reading people, especially the younger generation as he never seemed to age despite all his decades as the spokesperson for the Hunger Games live telecasts. She didn’t even begrudge him the question that made her cry – ‘I understand you knew one of the tributes from last year - how close was your connection to them?’<br/><br/>And then she’d found herself describing Brace as the caring, hard working boy she’d known and loved. She’d stared into Caesar’s heavily made up eyes and said in a shy voice that they’d planned to marry as soon as possible. She didn’t go into detail but then, she didn’t have to. Everyone understood that he’d died in those games. She’d just hoped that the gamemakers weren't going to put up the video of him being hurt or tortured. Instead, she found a tasteful image from his interview with Caesar staring down at her from a viewscreen, her sad smile breaking hearts all over Panem.<br/><br/>Now she sat with a seemingly hopeless Seam orphan and a shining example of lifetime encouragement from money and power. Both had a quality she didn’t like but that was unimportant and likely only a first impression. Garrett’s social weakness and dizzy discussion might be a tactic to avoid fear or a distraction for those observing him from his own powers of deduction. But it grated, just like the panic Brace had shown once he was hurt on the field. Caligus might be a caring soul, actually finding that his love for his sister carried him through this Game, wanting to return for her sake… but Rybbon doubted it. He had reminded her too strongly of how much she hated cruelty and yet relied upon it herself at the last, murdering her opponent in what her mind still tried to claim was self-defense. Kill or be killed.<br/><br/><em>In fact, kill 23 times or be killed once</em>, her mind drifted.<em>Well…</em>the numbers didn’t run that direction exactly.<em>Was it a blessing that most of the deaths would not happen by one hand alone? What kind of record would it be if a lone tribute committed most of the kills before the environment could take its due? What was the record for most kills by a single element – still the flood of the 70th Games? What tribute had killed the most adversaries before there were no more?</em><br/><br/>Eating delicately with her long black gloves, Rybbon let her green eyes turn between the men at the table with her, measuring each against her past familiarity with the challenges of the Arena. Every instinct was to gauge Caligus the winner by far in capability, adaptability, survivability.<em>What would Garrett bring to the table when he finally let his colors fly? Was he wily, a silent hider, whipcord tough and element resistant from his hard life?</em>She placed a grape upon her tongue as she glanced back to Caligus, slowly squashing it against the roof of her mouth to suck the juice down before chewing, her jaw working as she absorbed him visually. She waited for his answer if the conversation were to continue in this manner. They had a little time before needing to be at the training center below.<br/>