Kerrigan is in disgustingly good shape, and adrenaline is a hell of a drug. Of course she managed some serious distance.

"Not a bad idea." Speaking of disgustingly good shape, when she rises again, she doesn't bother using her arms to help. Without a hundred pounds of cranky mage slowing her down and throwing off her center of gravity, climbing a tree is nothing. Kerrigan looks up to determine a decent route.

Ah, there we go.

Rather than maneuver around Raistlin to get to the trunk, she sprints farther out along the large branch, up its gentle slope. It brings her close enough to her target for a heart-stopping leap into nothingness. Well, heart-stopping for Raistlin, possibly, if he thinks she's going to get herself killed and leave him stuck up a tree. That she'll miss the jump doesn't occur to Kerrigan, and indeed, she doesn't, catching a smaller, subsidiary branch above her head and letting her momentum carry her up and around so she lands perched right side up and a good ten feet higher than before.

Repeat similar maneuvers until she disappears behind leaves and the descending night. Damn thief-acrobats.