Lin had wasted no time at the Cornucopia. She'd grabbed herself a bow, a set of short swords, rid some other woman of the use of a limb and taken a bag, all within minutes. Soaked in blood and as comfortable as though it were ocean spray, the laywer marched with her treasures away from the Cornucopia.

On her way out Lin noticed with glee that one Tribute had tripped while also making his escape. She smiled, perhaps he had some food with him, clutched to his person or hidden away - she'd kill him and take it for herself, completing her supply collection.

She raises her sword with a happy hum, waiting for him to get to his feet, to struggle, to beg for his life. But instead, the boy is jerking, seizing, completely helpless on the candy-coated ground. The lawyer blinks slowly, lowering her weapon, and her eyes narrow in confusion and horror. He holds no supplies with him, he has made no desperate escape from the bloodbath: he's simply fallen and unable to run any further.

"...What the fuck?!"