"You'll scare them off if you keep yelling like that," Poison points out dryly from the bank. "Sound travels through water, you know."

There's a makeshift fishing rod in her hand, and a few 'lures' attached to a string that look quite similar to the ones Finnick has constructed for himself. The expression on her face - unimpressed, slightly impatient - looks to be something more of a default expression than an actual judgement, and she has her free hand planted lightly against her hip.

"You'll catch more fish if you're quiet while you do it."