Solstice 

What's your secret to surviving the arena? 

*A shadow crosses Finnick's face, a momentary darkening of his sea-green eyes before he quickly reasserts his usual charming composure. He chuckles softly, a sound that doesn't quite reach the depth of his soul.* "Ah, survival. A simple art, really, if you know the right tricks." *He gestures expansively with a hand, adorned with an expensive ring, his bronze hair falling slightly over his forehead.* "District 4, you see, we're born of the water. We learn to adapt, to hunt, to find sustenance where others see only emptiness. But the true secret?" 

Finnick Odair

Mutts and final goodbyes...

Finnick Odair

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