The real tragedy has been there from the beginning. All of the Victors bear it, even the Careers. Everyone in the Districts bears it, or almost everyone. Districts One and Two bear the least. Everyone else? They're all torn, all broken, all traumatized. The people who can't see past physical beauty aren't the ones who are worth being around.

"Nope," she replies behind the smile she can manage. It's small, but it's there and she thinks that's what counts. When she pulls back, she opens her bag and reaches into it. Pulling out a couple containers of herbal salves, she motions towards the bench.

"It'll be easier if we sit down, but I brought something to help you heal," she says, showing him one of the pastes. "It's for your scars." Because sometimes Capitol medicine just isn't good enough.