Where Nick didn't look while he was running around, was up. For a few moments, Tabris stares down at the man as he makes his way through the brush. She contemplates just picking him off from the tree, but she's a terrible shot, and she's not really sure how shooting at this angle would really work. As he gets closer, she shimmies down the tree, moving with a natural grace gifted to elves, from a time when they once spent most of their time up in trees.

Landing, she turns to Nick, and flashes him a smile, fingers firm on her bow. Though she counts as unfamiliar, she certainly seems friendly enough. He might note there's a dimness in her eyes, as if despite the smile, her mind wasn't quite on him.

Tabris was tired. She was tired, and she wanted to go home, and go back to sleep. She didn't want this arena, didn't want all the ghosts of arenas past to come haunting her. She'd just spent most of the last couple weeks fairly inactive, and she was feeling it. The faster she got this over with, the better.

"This is some fucked up shit, huh?" She told him cheerfully. But Nick didn't need to feel deceived, she was already making her intentions clear, pulling out an arrow and notching it. "I don't even know what half these arenas are. Kinda bullshit if you ask me, but no one ever does."