Clara's smile retains its unconditional kindness, but an ironic gleam surfaces in her eyes. She raises the marshmallow level with her mouth, blows on the chocolate to cool it before parting her lips to take a bite. She twirls the skewer idly between her fingers, watching him for a moment before turning to look back at the screen projecting the games. Most angles are darkened by night, the vague silhouettes of the abandoned theme park rising in the background like old monsters.

"No. If they were equals in the eyes of the Capitol, we would be in there too." Another bite. "President Snow is just hoping this will stymie the rebellion." The same rebellion that is impertinent at best to mention in a place like this, though Clara says it with all the levity one might use to comment on the ballroom's decor.

"Aren't you hungry? These are very good."