They don't immediately dispute his claim about Panem. That made him hopeful that he'd struck the right path, that Eowyn had told them, even if in part, about the Capitol and the Arenas. And that in the face of such an implausible and fanciful story, she hadn't chosen to fabricate something more believable. He could work with this, then, if so.

Jack spreads his hands. "True enough, there wasn't any ill will between the two o' us. Call it fondness, if you'd like." He unflinchingly meets Faramir's gaze, still appearing rather at ease about this entire ordeal (he's perfected the act over the years, even in the face of precarious situations like this; it's saved him from more than a few tight spots in the past).

"But as much as you'd expect, I'd wager, given the circumstances. Panem is a horrible, nasty place, mate. And in the interest in staying alive, we -- " He nods over at Eowyn, " -- figured helping each other and stickin' together would be wiser than striking out alone."