Well, that's a loaded question - Finnick isn't always sure how he feels at any given moment, especially lately. But whatever she's describing, whatever this virus is she's warning him about, he can't say he can detect it.

Shaking his head, Finnick again takes another step forward, his hands still out where she can see them. "I don't," he says before carefully reaching down to pick one up. It doesn't sting and isn't hot to the touch. The granules of sand sticking to it make its surface rough, but it seems otherwise harmless. "Should this be hurting me?"