And their general inability to fight back given their situation certainly wasn't becoming any less frustrating as the days passed. Enjolras could appreciate Damian's words well enough, definitely, and his sentiments, should he ever have been made aware of them, even more so. However, it was the futility of their place in this world that truly bothered him, not the violence, or pain associated with it. Undoubtedly, though, the boy was entirely right. Most people were reacting out of an animalistic instinct to survive by whatever definition one could consider survival here. He couldn't really fault them for that.

"I find myself torn between such impulses and the desire for a quick and painless death so that I might occupy myself more productively." The words were grim and rushed, but entirely truthful. If there was progress to be made in Panem, he was almost entirely certain it would come from the Capitol, not within the Arena. "And you're right, I'm unsuited to this environment. I have no desire for death, if we're to be honest, but I have a certain distaste for being treated as an amusement. I imagine more than a few of us feel that way."