Fulvia sat alone at one of the tables, her untouched meal laid out before her. She idly maneuvered her fork around the plate, pushing the food back and forth in a futile attempt to appear occupied. The abundance of food felt like a stark contrast to the hunger that plagued so many in Panem, a reality that weighed heavily on her conscience.
As the words of another drifted towards her, Fulvia tried to ignore them, hoping to avoid engagement. However, the woman's persistent gaze forced her attention, prompting a resigned sigh from Fulvia as she turned to face her.
"Well, that isn't an amusement park at all then," she remarked, her tone flat and tinged with annoyance. With a slow blink, she regarded the other woman, seeking clarification. "What exactly are you talking about?"
El's shoulders drew up slightly as she answered. "Fun. I guess I'm talking about ways we got a little excitement when we were young." She recognized the other's flat tone, the detachment in her regard for the conversation. But then, dealing with the bloodbath came about in many different ways for people. Her mother often disappeared into her workshop afterward, one of her sisters sought out noise and distraction. "The world used to offer those things up on a silver platter to kids."

















