"Maybe you were drunk. It happens, especially on leave days."
Coriolanus Snow threw his friend a glance, a sort of ironically polite invitation to accept defeat. Sejanus ignored it and went on, shaking his head in a fit of stubborness.
"No, I saw her. For real. She was a small creature, with her hair down. Just a little taller than the blonde girl who sings here, with that band of musicians. At first I thought she was running from someone, so I stopped to ask her if she needed help… but when she turned around I saw she was barefoot. And, I don't know, she just didn't look human. Not only she wasn't wearing shoes, but she didn't even have a jacket to cover herself, or a cloak. She was just wearing a white tunic. And it's winter."
"And after that? What did she do?"
As much as he tried to mantain a tone shifting between detached and ironic, curiosity was beginning to get the better of Coriolanus. It wasn't even the first time he'd heard such tales, but usually they were told by the elders to children from Twelve. Or they would pass from mouth to mouth during evenings of revelry with comrades in arms, when the ones born and raised in the District would laughingly recount the legends they were terrified of as children. Fairy tales, of course. No less, no more. But hearing them from Sejanus Plinth, who had lived in Capitol for years, had a whole different effect.
"She didn't blink. She looked at me, ran behind a tree and disappeared. Like she never existed."
