They should all be glad Effie's theatrics have missed her shoes, the last remains of her time as a Capitol fashion icon. They do look a little absurd, shiny and pink against the dull grey of the only outfit that made the journey with her, but that's a concession she's willing to make.

"Thank you, dear." She accepts the napkins with a wink and crouches down to carefully clean up the black splat of ice cream. It all gets tossed in the nearest trash. The dropped ice cream managed to be a sufficient distraction from the cannibalism but now that they're both without dessert she worries that idle conversation may draw the wrong kind of attention.

"I think we'd better step out before they ask us to leave," she suggests. It's soft like a joke but she thinks he's sharp enough to pick up on what she means. Though they've only just met, she gets the feeling that he knows as well as she does that beautiful and tempting things are often the most dangerous. As much as she'd like to truly relax and and enjoy the amenities, the ship's likely to be just as treacherous as the Capitol.