That was a yes, then. When he'd been brought here his first night had been spent in the arena. He imagines he would find it completely overwhelming, if he'd been in the capitol instead.

"They call it a prosthetic," He explained, shifting his weight to his other foot so he could bend the metal one, flex the heel. It moved just like his normal leg would do, except for the fact that it creaked, gently. It needed to be oiled. "I lost mine fighting their battles, so they saw fit to replace it. As for the confusion, you are not alone. We are all of us confused, when we arrive."

He offers a stiff nod. "I am Maximus Decimus Meridius, District 3 mentor, at your service."