“You could stab me,” August commented with an impartial shrug. “That always puts you in a better mood.” “Though tormenting you does bring me great joy, you don’t need to worry. I’m not risking my nomination just so I can snap your neck or push you off a building again.” Wren smirked and crossed her arms. “Publicly, at least. I might consider privately maiming you every once in a while. You know, just to keep our spirits up.”