After two weeks, Sylvia emerged from the hospital no worse for wear. She was lucky to have escaped with no serious injuries, and that the ones she did get were easily treatable.
During her Victor's interview, Caesar noted that she seemed pretty cross. Even though she was shockingly happy in the arena, it had been replaced with a quiet but visible anger.
It was because the rest of the world was still standing. Yes, she had survived the Hunger Games, yes she had done the Fire Spirit's work, but that work was far from over.
When she still had the whole world to go, only burning the arena seemed kind of pathetic.
But no matter. She would do it.
She didn't know when she would get the opportunity though. It had taken her all sixteen years of her life to be able to even burn the arena; how much longer would she have to wait for another chance at destruction?
The answer was simply: too long. She would be waiting for too long.
Sylvia didn't care that she was the first District Seven Female to survive in nearly fifty years. She didn't care that her eleven kills meant that she had set a new record. She didn't care that she was also the Victor with the lowest training score.
The Fire Spirit wanted her to continue her work, and that was what she would do.