Both Finnick's eyebrows raise high at the suddenly defensive tone and he finishes chewing before letting out a soft laugh.

"I see I touched a nerve," he says, cracking open another nut with two fingers before sucking the salt off his thumb, eyes still locked on Faye. Once clean, he reaches over to tug at the sleeve of the shirt she's wearing, so different her typical skin tight garb. "You look like you're wearing a tent."