Syren gazed longingly through the polished glass of the tribute train, the landscape speeding by to the eerie silence of her current habitat. Another day, another prison. She looked out at a world left untouched, forgotten; and far more beautiful for it. She stared for a for more mere moments before setting herself to the situation at hand. Rising with purpose she swiftly turned to face another tribute whom had, unfortunately for them, stumbled into her den.Â
âLost, are we?â she mused with a wry smile.
August was lost, not quite having figured out the configuration of the train. It seemed to switch up on her every time she walked through, though she wasnât sure how they managed to do that. The Capitol could do anything, though, so it wasnât too surprising.
Startled by the other tribute despite having seen her first, a small yelp escaped Augustâs lips as she was addressed. âIâm real sorry, Iâm not trying to bother. Iâm just trying to find the supper car.â Something about the other tribute made August immediately nervous, her hands unconsciously smoothing out her dress. âDo you, um, know where the supper car is?â















