[His voice comes out raw and choked sounding, like he's trying not to start coughing or crying. Cato looks like he's doing his best to keep his shit together: jaw clenched tight, his neck tense and the tendons showing stark under his skin, and his shoulders bunched and tight. Like a mimic of a stoic face. A poor one.
When she speaks, after repeating him, he can't help the shattered, short laugh that barks out uninhibited.]
'Course he would have. You're dangerous.
[You are, not we. Cato might have been figuring out how to deal with things in a less...Panem-ian way but he still had conceptions about Victors that put them at levels that he couldn't reach.]
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When she speaks, after repeating him, he can't help the shattered, short laugh that barks out uninhibited.]
'Course he would have. You're dangerous.
[You are, not we. Cato might have been figuring out how to deal with things in a less...Panem-ian way but he still had conceptions about Victors that put them at levels that he couldn't reach.]