"No need to apologize," he lowered his head in a light bow as a sign of respect, "for not all know of elven law and not all elven law is carried throughout the entire race. For example, I can eat meat whereas others cannot. I suppose each clan dictates its own specific rules when necessary." He tried to laugh but it sounded a little forced. Perhaps it was? Or maybe he just didn't laugh much anymore.

Like the woman before him, he too was curious as to why the cat-man would enter the tournament. What kind of life was he seeking? Should he win, he could do anything he wanted. Well, almost anything. Right before the raven asked him to refire his arrows, his brows furrowed and he wondered what her story was. Why was she interested in fighting? What did she want to gain by winning?

With a light shrug, he dropped the thought and collected his arrows. While he walked back to his previous post, he smirked. "It's odd how winning a tournament of strength and power can determine your place in life. You would think there to be more to life than just brawn and strategy." Bow up and arrows ready, he began to fire away. Not wanting to look like a one-trick pony, he altered his pattern up, sending one, then three, then a series of one, one, and one.

When she seemed to believe he was done, he fired off four more arrows. Whilst firing those off, he scrapped a fifth arrow against his hip. The second it made contact, a flame appeared and he sent that arrow flying faster than he had any of the previous ones.

"If you'd like, I can always pull out my explosive arrows," he chirped while waiting for her comments on his firing. Even though he couldn't hit her directly, he could certainly make his attempts a little less meek!