Shepard turns to look at him, rolling her head across her shoulders with an exaggerated lassitude. She regards his panic with an exsanguine stare, the scars on her cheek glimmering faintly in the dim, foggy light of Ember Veil, and then gestures at the memory of the arena doggedly playing itself out in front of them.

"Hunger Games. The Arena," Then something seems to spark in her expression, and she frowns, actually sitting up a little, the better to see his— Oh, "Holy shit."

She knows this guy. Oh, not personally, they had never had reason to hang out. But there was merch, posters, vids and advertisements. District Four's famous heartbreaker, the Victor of the 65th games, long before her time in the limelight.

"You're Finnick Odair. Damn— You alright?"