Diana wasn't sure how she felt about her costume. It was based off some warrior woman whose name she didn't recognize, although she assumed the actual armor was at least leather, not the flimsier fabric the costume was made of, and most likely came weapons resting on the empty loops of her outfit. Still. It was comfortable, at least.

Far more comfortable than the Arena itself, and though her face remained impassive she winced inwardly at the jarring scene and the incessant noise. Grimly she put it out of her head and, after a quick look around to see if she recognized any new faces (was that--Riddler?) she turned her back on the Cornucopia as well, bolting off like a shot as soon as she was able.

She wouldn't make the mistake of wrestling her fellow captives for their meager supplies again, she'd run some distance away and make her plans then, try and find her allies, the people who needed her protection.

And as she ran she saw a familiar face, or rather, the familiar back and then, as she caught up with him, familiar profile of her District companion. She was somewhat surprised to see him running away from the inevitable fight of the Cornucopia, and it showed in her expression.