If life in the Capitol had granted her anything, it was stoicism in the face of horrible wound descriptions.

"Swords are silent, too."

She lifted a chain from around her neck; on the end was a small key. Effie unlocked the box and brought out an array of labeled and wrapped food. Granola bars represented the bulk of it, but there were also small metal cannisters of dried fruit and nuts and other snacky things.

"But I don't think I like them much."