It seems prudent to wait until he's all the way down, safe on the forest floor instead of perched on a branch that might not hold his weight should the wrong move get made. Only once he is down, and concerned with the boot, does she straighten up.

And casts a look over her shoulder, in the direction of the caves. She isn't that far from them, and easy enough to find should anyone come looking. "Sharing your fire would be ... nice. Thank you."

He could kill her, she supposes. That is what the tributes are supposed to do, and her soldierly skills are laughable when compared to actual soldiers. But believing the worst of everyone she meets only invites paranoia, and Arwen would rather avoid going down that road.

"I am sorry you grieve. Is there -- can I help?" Not her place, and he might revoke the invitation, but she has to try.