you know the first rule of combat?

Her brows pull together for an instant in confusion as she stares at the bracelet suddenly deposited in her hand. Pulling it closer to her eyes, she can see the small flames painted over the jewelry, nothing too extraordinary, and yet beautiful in its simplicity. To maintain her image, she does still raise a brow in his direction, something like disbelief. A gun for a bracelet, really.

But she knows how much the most seemingly inconsequential of items can mean to a person.

And so she slips the bracelet on for safe-keeping.

"Faye," she replies. "Faye Valentine. Pleasure to meet you, Finnick."