"Be careful, Annzie," Mags calls after her granddaughter.

The training room looked like a home gym. There were weights and mirrors and a treadmill, as well as a few punching bags, one that even looked like a proper torso. Down the hall was actually a small wave pool for swimming. A few racks held training weapons, and it didn't take Annie long to locate her back-pack for such things. Instead fo training weapons, however, she put in a few real ones, including two iron knives in her boots.

"Finnick? No, she thinks he's absolutely charming. That's why she doesn't trust him." Why most people didn't. "She doesn't trust any fae, really." And with Annie's history, she had every reason not to trust much of anyone around her. The last thing Mags wanted was Annie getting hurt again. She'd already lost her son and daughter-in-law, and thought she'd lost Annie a few times, too. She didn't think she could handle such a loss again.