He tensed slightly at the touch, frowning as he glanced down at it, though he didn't take his hand away. Not immediately. There was a time once we he might have snatched it back, but that time had disappeared after every arena, every death.

He knew how tenuous his grasp on himself and on his life was. And knew what it was that held him there. Eventually, however, he did carefully remove his hand.

"If we reach a point were certain decisions must be made--" he started, but currently himself off.