Katniss stays close enough to the railings so that she can see what's going on in the water, startling a little at the illumination she still doesn't know how to explain but being grateful for it all the same. She can't shoot what she can't see, and she sees them, now -- definitely not sharks. Not that she's ever seen one outside of a book, but those things in the water are definitely different. She sucks in a breath, her tension evident.

She feels curiously calm, as frightening as they are, because their wrongness is almost familiar to her. Like muttations, she realises -- they look like muttations. An impenetrable mystery fog is one thing -- the waiting for it was agony. But monsters, something solid, made of flesh and blood? Monsters, she can fight.

Frowning deeply and doing her best to ignore that keening screech, she glances at the other passengers. "Whatever those things are, they were strong enough to tear that--" She jerks her thumb at the hunk of dead flesh that was helpfully brought aboard, "--apart. Can they damage the hull?" It's Balthier's boat, or at least he's the one who acquired it; she gives him a questioning look. Her hand goes behind her, brushing over the arrows in her quiver. "I don't think I have enough to get them all," and even if she does, she won't be able to retrieve her arrows afterwards. She really wishes she'd brought more, but she hadn't been counting on extradimensional monsters when she went out hunting yesterday morning.