"No!" The denial is more instinctive than automatic - she's a victor, no one would be surprised at her being interested in hurting people. But she's not good at it. Not any more. Not from even before her games.

And in any case, the moves he was showing are too fancy to be useful in Panem. They show years of dedication, of training: no, not for the games. A couple moves to get through a brawl are okay, but there has to be lines. Has to have a nod towards the rules.

"It wasn't, wasn't that," Annie tries again, although her ribs feeling tight and sharp. In her boots, her toes are curled, trying to keep grip on the ground and politeness. "It was just. You knew what you were doing and I-"

It was nice to see.

But she's not sure how to put it without sounding strange, and the flush deepens.