Dairine pulls out some sandwich ingredients and starts placing them on the table, where she can discretely keep an eye on Clove. Seems the tribune is raiding the kitchen utensils. Which considering she’s an expert in knife-throwing (you can thank Haymitch for spoiling that little factoid), can’t be good.

…Speaking of which, Dairine's going to need a knife herself. This mustard is not gonna spread on its own. So she casually walks over to the silverware drawer, as if nothing is out of the ordinary. Do dee do… Hope you left some butter knives, Clove.