Vaguely, very vaguely, did she sense the presence of another. Not that it mattered she was dying. Yet she fought dying. She wanted to live. Very much wanted to live. Between the healing magic and her extremely strong and powerful will to live...she was still living. When he inspected for weapons...she had none. The only items on her was a healing balm that could only be used for healing light injuries. She was clearly not a fighter of any sort. No weapons. Not even a hair pin that could be turned into a weapon. She was unarmed completely. Just a young healer. Nothing more. Nothing less. Her mind registered pressure on the wound but still she could not will her eyes open. Maybe with a bit more rest she would be able to do so. In the meantime she couldn't do so. She felt the darkness lifting a bit. As if death was letting her go from its harsh and cold iron grip. Her breathing became slighly less shallow. Though not by much.<br/><br/>When her mind began to unfog from its shadowy haze she noticed that she was not in the grassy hill side by the forest. She lets out a sound of pain and a groan that indicated the young elven maiden was starting to come too. Still too weak to open her eyes more than a slit. She did realize that she was not on the ground. Her lips make unintelligible yet clearly attempted indications of speaking yet no words formed. Just sounds that were filled with the pain she felt. Silence fell from her lips as she fell into a pain induced sleep versus the dying collapse her mind had underwent. She rested again as she needed it a lot.