Shepard wanted to argue, to give him hope. That she had contact, had a plan, a sure way to get people out of the Capitol, if only he'd wait. Hold on a little longer. But right now, that was all in jeopardy, it was... There were so many other factors, so many people to rely on; a lot of question marks. A lot of places where this could all screw up.

And the biggest weak point of it all was herself- she let it go in a long breath, watching him work. Can't talk about it, not anywhere, certainly not here. It was easier that way; she could blame The Rules for what felt like cowardice, but a good commander knew the difference between expedience and necessity.

"I'm not going to tell you what to do, Don. Everyone here has the right to do whatever they think is best to get what they need," To get out from under the yoke, in whatever fashion they thought possible. After all, could she criticize Don's motivations in the face of injuries brought on by her own sense of desperation? "I just think it's stupid to run away. It's more important to look at where you're going. And how you'll get there."

Ten arenas-- or eleven. Donatello knew what it meant to win. Knew what it would mean, when it came down to one, or two, or three people left. He could look at people like Enjolras and decide for himself if the prize was real, or worth pursuing. It was all just such a damn waste.