Sahsara also fires her bow again, reluctant to get near the big guy.
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"Oh dear. Why is he so angry?" Sahsara fires at the approaching, club-waving, yelling dude.
"Oh dear, big guy." Sahsara nocks an arrow, then calls to the warty blue figure in Sylvan, "Hail, friend. We come in peace!"
The rogue does the same, and the two bowstrings make an odd beat frequency that bothers the ears as they vibrate at very different frequencies.
Giving up the pretext of sleep, Sahsara rises from her sleeping furs, an unseen breeze stirring the fine hair floating around her delicate features. "Greetings, Esme who Dwells with the Pines. I am called Sahsara. If your cause is ours, it only makes sense to join forces. Be welcome at our fire."
Sahsara wakes but remains in her bedroll, listening and trying to pretend to sleep while she works her sling from her belt pouch.
Sahsara also fires her smaller bow before drawing the rapier she is more comfortable with.
"Th-th-th... oooh, thanks," the adventurer sighs in response to the healing, "I'm not used to those things being made out of pine branches like that. Weird."
"Let me at least examine it," Sahsara offers, "That way, we do not leave a live tap in the forest for any person or creature to stumble upon. I would hate to be injured and alone in these cold woods." She carefully advances and examines the branches.
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