Finnick holds tight to her. Her assurance of safety and her presence is what he tries to focus on, but the shadows are irregular shapes that are too easy for his brain to interpret as human figures about to leap out and kill them both. He yearns for a trident in his hands, or any kind of weapon he could use to protect them.

The dogs are somewhat of a comfort, but the campsite is lit strangely by the torch, and his uneasiness builds again as she starts a fire. Lighting a fire at night, the ultimate blunder for a tribute, sure to signal to the careers your exact location so they can easily hunt you down.

This feels like a bad idea. Cognitively, he knows he's safe, but in his body all he feels is dread and fear. Like something horrible is going to happen imminently. His eyes still dart around, and he fails to settle or make himself comfortable in the campsite, still standing near her.