"Which means it's long overdue, right?" he countered with a small shrug and a smile. "Sounds like the odds are in my favor." He was trying to be confident and charming, since he found that those were the types sponsors seemed to like, but he wasn't sure he was pulling it off.
He hoped for the best.
Then, she asked a series of questions trying to doubt his winning capabilities. His eyes narrowed the slightest bit before going back to normal, again, trying to not be confrontational; she was probably trying to see how he would crack under pressure.
Not this time.
"Well, I'll answer those in order," he said with a small chuckle. "If they're not there, my hand to hand is still pretty strong. If they're weird or exotic weapons, I'm still not worried; I'm a smart guy, I learn fast. And as for survival, we have those classes in One as well. Maybe I was a little young with those, but I still know how to wrap a bandage and to avoid nightlock. Sure, I'll be working at those stations more when we start training since I'm already the best with a sword, but that doesn't mean I'm completely unprepared."
He took a sip of his drink, satisfied with his answers, hoping she was too.
He certainly had an answer for everything, but behind it all was the pompous gloating still. It could be a fatal flaw, being so confidant. She had seen pride and confidence, especially overconfidence, all too many times ruin a tribute. They'd be so overly confidant that they'd misstep and in a second it was all over. She wondered if he'd be able to truly convince she and the other gamemakers that his claims were true, or if he'd be just another overconfident career tribute.
"Well..." she started, "I suppose only time will tell, now won't it? You'll either be as good as you say you are, or.... you won't." She shrugged. "For your sake, I certainly hope you are."
