Well, Kili will just stare over at Hawkeye as he laughs or hisses or snickers or whathaveyou. There's something not quite right to the sound of it or the grin that spreads wide across the doctor's mouth. In fact, Kili would think him drunk if there were any ale to be found in the Arena. It doesn't serve to ease that fear in his stomach either. Instead it twists tighter, twists, twists like the Capitol would twist him, like a doll to be bent and shaped to laugh and hiss like Hawkeye.

"Red, I s'pose," he replied with a measure of wariness, like an audience member at some kind of strange traveling circus where the main act was designed to purposely make those in the front row uncomfortable. "Could hide blood. Less easy to spot among..." He considers what Hawkeye had said again. "The chickens."

Anything but gray or black would likely stand out in this arena, but the dwarf himself hadn't dressed in many of those colors on purpose, simply choosing the pieces of armor that would best suit him. Metal would gleam if a light hit it, but he had no fear of such a thing with the windows so clouded and dark.