Ziva had always been a bit standoffish, but she did still feel that belonging. It was the only group that she could begin to feel safe belonging to, the only ones with any vague sort of protection. Her sister's life had no such value to the Capitol as hers, because of her victor celebrity. Her father--she hated him, now, for what he had taught them as children. Unwavering loyalty to a man and government who deserved none of it. She claims no belonging there. And so, when she's not alone, she's with the other victors.

She would have been there with them, in conspiracy.

"Not much, except that it is a better place than the one we have left." She looks over toward one of the uniformed humans, motioning with a lift of her chin, then turns her eyes only back towards Finnick. "They will explain everything, if you ask them. That man was surprised when I questioned him about surveillance. He did not know the name Panem. And he said that more people than just us have been brought here--and while we are here, we are considered guests."

She turns her head back, leans forward to rest her elbows on the table and her chin on the backs of her hands. "It seems we have been granted a respite. I do not know how long it will last."