Capitol security might know all there was to know about Tributes, but Psii would rather not give the paparazzi or the general public more fodder about his quadrant life if he could help it. Instead of raising his voice, he tried taking the calm route Sam had fought for.

"Thure, but no promitheth. You're thuppothed to be rethting whether we talk or not."

A highblood who couldn't take care of themselves, who had to rely on help, was frowned upon. But Psii followed Signless's philosophy of helping others. Even now he quickly handed Sam the things he needed without a fuss. He couldn't just walk away, or worse, give the Gamemakers what they wanted and finish Initiate off. It was easier to kill than to save. It was easier to die than to live. His visions showed him that. What was the point of trying to take easy ways out when calamity wove into his life anyway?

"It'th that thtupid highblood thtrength complexth that thayth you're not allowed to acthept help. You know your moirail doethn't buy that hoofbeathtshit. Even if you're telling uth to go jutht becauthe you don't like yourthelf, well, join the club." He gave a short, bitter laugh. "No point driving uth off for that reathon either."