"Well, if there's someone bigger and badder to fight, I'd love to find and kill them, too. Then these low-level freaks would hopefully stop spawning."

Finnick finally attends to his forearm, which is still bleeding. He looks around for some kind of fabric to wrap around it, but there isn't much.

"Pretty big oversight not to have a first aid kit on my boat..." He mutters as he rummages around.