Ah. Those words were practically tailor-made to draw Loki's attention more fully back to her, although he kept his eye on the situation with his brother in his peripheral vision. The smile -- almost a smirk, really, although not quite -- was genuine as he looked back at her. "I'm aware," he said, and the note of reverence in his voice was unmissable. "Brute strength and charm get tributes far in the arena but, at least in my home district, I think people sometimes forget that it's not all there is."
Loki took another couple of hobbling steps back toward the table then, reaching across it to retrieve a half-empty bottle of wine that matched the type she'd been drinking before. This time, it as difficult to miss the way he favored his right leg. He'd trained himself to hide it, even learned to walk on the old injury in ways that were more physically painful if it meant he could minimize its outward presence, but he could never truly escape it. Despite all the excellent healing technology available in the Capitol, it was too late to truly fix what was broken in Loki, and he'd just have to live with it.
He tipped the bottle toward her, pouring just half a glass this time and then setting the bottle back on the table. "It seems that intelligence and ingenuity served you well, when you needed them." He lifted his chin, looking into her eyes. "I'm sure they still will."