The hair did stand out. An unnatural color in any forest, not just the arena's. Even if he hadn't heard her crashing through the brush like a frightened deer, he'd have had to have been blind to miss it.

He wasn't far behind when she tumbled, and he was already reaching out a hand by the time she'd rolled and thrown up her arms.

"It's alri--" Cut off by her panicked sobs, the hand he was offering turned, palm out, soothing. He shifted the rifle to his hip with his other hand, and crouched, so he wasn't looming over her. "It's alright. I'm not gunna hurt ya. I'm here to help."