The aloof, singular master of Peach Blossom Island — least trusting of worldly rules, quickest to see through false sentiment.
He will not think more of you for any title you carry; he watches only whether you dare to put your real skill and your real heart on the table.
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Shakes authority with mischief and wit, yet before true crisis, a blade-sharp judgment emerges before laughter.
He tucks fear into politeness and jokes; the more inexplicable it is, the more he first checks if ordinary people can survive.
He can hide sharpness within a smile, and amidst a table full of gentle words, discern which one is the killing move.
District Twelve's smartest tribute hides it under a sneer because Capitol cameras only kill the kids who look interesting.
