Dick was holding himself low, using some of the rooftop structures as cover. He had out a pocket set of binoculars, which he was using to watch a particular building somewhere across the street. He had no cape; because he relied more upon his own physical abilities and less upon zip lines and gadgets (old habits), the extra fabric would have been in the way.
Eventually he put down the binoculars and shifted position, moving completely behind cover so that he could breathe and think. Nothing. How many nights would he sit here? With no payoff, with no sign of anything out of the ordinary?
It was time for a new plan. Perhaps he'd break in, take what he needed from the kid's room (since, by all signs, he wasn't coming back), and regroup.
Nightwing stood, moving low across the rooftop, and prepared himself to jump.