He reaches forward with the cricket, making as if to put it on her face a moment, and then bringing it down and placing it in her palm. "I dare you to slip this in one of your Tributes' breakfast. Not the troll, though."
He smile, though close-mouthed, is also something like a snarl. The muscles of his face make the lines alongside his mouth look like fishhooks around his nostrils.
no subject
He smile, though close-mouthed, is also something like a snarl. The muscles of his face make the lines alongside his mouth look like fishhooks around his nostrils.