"I don't want to use them for target-practice, anyway," Annie says, brightly. Not loudly, but brightly. Not that she's used her knife-skills on anything other than assigned target boards for years, but that'd been enough when she'd been in the mood to rip apart everyone who paid to be with Finnick. Not like these people, who'd been nice. And nice to her.

Her eyes fall back down to the package in her hands, fingers running over the smooth plastic that still covers the little Annie and Finnick dolls.

Then she laughs.

"Oh! They have little toy fish with us. Look, here?" The fish are not very accurate, being more like a child's toy then anything else, but she's delighted. "I wonder if they'll float."