"Courfeyrac, of all people has said something alike to that?" Joly's mouth dropped a little, for an instance, as he gaped at Enjolras. "I would not say you are too soft, my friend. This is a different world, and one needs adapt, as any being would. Courfeyrac of all of us suggesting that would point to Panem being odd indeed. He's been here longer than I have, yes, but even so. I do not see that you are too soft, or that you need soften too much entirely. Open your mind a little more, perhaps, if I were offering advice, but that is no different from what I had thought may help at home."

Perhaps it was not fair at that, to speak of what had been, instead of what might be, and speaking of home might easily become too painful if they dwelled too much on it, so Joly took the silence for what it was, studying Enjolras's face, rather than the screen in that moment. He did look old, and over-tired and he wished that he might prescribe rest and have Enjolras listen to him now, though he doubted that would happen with the games still on. Joly himself did not want to get much of it himself, now knowing he was safe for the time being.

"Hmm?" He asked, his friend's voice pulling him back to the moment. "Ah the pair of them? I do not know the lady well, or at all beyond what I've seen, but they certainly would look well together, on the town. If they appear at any tribute events, they'll certainly catch someone's attentions."