Hours passed. The man didn't stir until the sun was well up in the sky. Another groan escaped his lips as consciousness slowly returned. The searing pain was the first thing he registered. Well...that was good, he suppose. Pain meant feeling. He was still alive. For how long, though...he couldn't rightly guess. His wounds had been pretty bad.

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, golden pupils staring out at the clearing again. This time, though, he was not alone. A rather beautiful blond sat before him, golden hair let down just past her shoulders. She wore green and brown attire that was unfamiliar to the young drow. Of course, anything other than his blackened leather would be new to him, given his heritage. The thin blade at her side proved that she knew how to defend herself, as did the bow slung over her back. At length, his golden eyes met her icy blue, his expression clearly pained as he felt another surge from the wound in his side.

A rough cough and his eyes averted, hand slowly trailing to his side. It had been packed and softened with herbs. The leather tunic had been pulled up to bandage his wound. “Seems I owe you for being among the living,” he commented. “I should probably thank you for not killing me on sight as well.” He let out a small chuckle that quickly turned into a groan as the light movement irritated his wound. “Agh...fuck, that hurts.”

He didn't know how the forest elves' mannerisms worked exactly, but he figured there was no sense in hiding his nature. If the woman hadn't slit his throat yet, it was unlikely she would.