Finnick Odair²

Somehow, thanks to the divine force protecting you and Finnick that day, he survived what was supposed to be his death. Now, lying in the hospital bed, awake for what must be day three, you sit by his side, hoping, praying, he'll say something.

The lights of District 13 flicker and buzz with their fluorescence; it's almost nauseating to him. But he sits, silent, tying the rope in his hands knot after knot, his back torn, his chest and arms more bandage than skin.