Fara's face, wet and streaked with mud and tears, goes a shade more pale when she hears a voice calling in elven nearby.  She looks in that direction, then back to Nev as if to make sure he hears it too.  She then turns in that direction and scans the horizon... she hadn't even considered that they were not alone, nor that there might be immediate danger.<br/><br/>She shrugs her bow from her shoulder and rapidly wipes the string and grip with the inside cuff of her tunic. Her quiver is wet as well, but she's fired with wet fletchings before.  She nocks an arrow and looks to make eye contact with Nev... strange, how easy it was to communicate with him, just like the woods back home... and she takes a flanking point to approach the woman who seems to be struggling more with the mud than the elven words on her tongue.  "Hello?" she calls softly in Common, and peers over the lip of the gully at Guinevere.<br/><br/>The dark-haired elven woman-- petite even for an elf-- seems incredibly wary as her muddied countenance comes into view.  She then, unless Nev shows more trepidation than she, will move in to assist the woman out of the slickest mud into more stable mud.