It's been eleven years since Finnick won the Hunger Games. Eleven years, but he's still as tall, athletic, and physically capable as he always was. Not just because of natural skill, but because of training. Hard training, exercise, practice: swimming, running, sparring with the other victors, and the simple daily exertion of fishing and sailing kept him fit and practiced, and he used those skills every year as a mentor. Training for the Quarter Quell had only honed what were already sharp abilities.

Since he got here, his opportunities for training have been less extensive, but he's been using the gym and starting to use the holodeck. He spends time most days in the martial arts training ares in the gym, working on techniques he's picked up in the martial arts classes he's started, combining them with the brutal, effective style he'd learned as a child.

He can spend hours here, and he does, but today he's only halfway through his workout when he sees Beverly approach. It's a sign that she's not at her best that she doesn't seem to notice him. He hadn't known she was a martial artist; whatever she's practicing looks more meditative than combative, but he can see the potential in it.

He starts his cool-down, keeping a wary eye on Beverly, and it's only some time later he actually approaches her, his bare arms still glistening with sweat.

"Hey, Beverly."