Cal laughs at that. It's a short, barking sort of sound that's only saving grace is that it blends into the untz-untz of the dance music pulsing around them. Whether it's about Oceana talking a bigger game than she's got, or the truth of the general malaise stubbornly maintained in the District 2 suites, well, he leaves that up to interpretation.
"You're new, right? They'll come around and be better for it." He moves the champagne glass to his lips casually, but it's debatable whether or not he takes a sip. "Crito, my father," he clarifies quickly, as if it was an absolute necessity he simply forgets on occasion, "used to talk about how hard it was to work with Tributes. I never knew what he was getting at until now. It takes intensity, I think. Patience, and intensity. At the same time, every Hunger Games is a new challenge and a new opportunity for them to improve."
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"You're new, right? They'll come around and be better for it." He moves the champagne glass to his lips casually, but it's debatable whether or not he takes a sip. "Crito, my father," he clarifies quickly, as if it was an absolute necessity he simply forgets on occasion, "used to talk about how hard it was to work with Tributes. I never knew what he was getting at until now. It takes intensity, I think. Patience, and intensity. At the same time, every Hunger Games is a new challenge and a new opportunity for them to improve."