Galadred's nose curled as soon as the party entered the clearing, the smell of old fires and rotting flesh mixed to make a stomach-churning bouquet that reminded him too much of his vile kin and their raids on the shores of Ulthuan. This put him instantly on-edge. Obviously, somethinbg was wrong here, and the Estalian's reaction to the visual evidence further perturbed the elf. Even before the thudding of the arrow, Galadred had raised Argent Roar, resting the enchanted battleaxe on his broad shoulder, ready for what may come next. Still, prepared as he was, the arrow finding its home in the tree next to his charge surprised him. For a split second, he thought the unseen archer may have missed, and he moved to cover the Estalian with the bulk of his thick fur cloak, which made decent protection against projectiles.

 However, in the brief moment of surprise after the arrow struck the tree, the shooter revealed that they had indeed hit their mark. A warning shot. Perhaps they were not the perpetrators of the massacre? The unseen archer claimed that they had the party outnumbered. It may have been true, though even with Galadred's keen Asur eye, he was having trouble seeing anyone at all in the underbrush. Shortly after the archer spoke, there was a slight whistle and a crack from another direction in the woods. It seemed that they were indeed surrounded and outnumbered. Talking their way out was the only recourse, but Galadred wasn't quite as confident in his silver tongue as he was his Ithilmar axe.

 The tall elf turned his head toward the Estalian behind him, and raised an eyebrow.

 "Well, Severo. What do you think? Should we talk, or let the stunted one charge in to distract them?" He asked slyly, only half joking.