(OOC: "Wound-y" has become my new favorite word.)
"Shh, shh," Cloudstrider soothed, trying to calm the woman. He'd had an image of her in his mind as a stone-hearted Honuntton agent, unbreakable and defiant. A fool chooses his bird by its feather,
an old Kaduai proverb reminded him. "It's alright, I'm a healer," he said softly. "I just want to check your wounds." With gentle and trained hands, Cloudstrider examined the punctures on her side. They were healing normally, but she was in no shape to travel. "You'll be just fine," he smiled, covering her back up with the sheet. "My apologies on the bindings, by the way. You and your friends made us a little nervous, what with the arrow shots and all."
Considering her slightly fragile state, the half-elf decided it would be a wasted opportunity to not gain some rapport with the woman. "Not that it helps much, but I'm sure you'd do the same in our situation," he continued with an air of casualness. "We're not so different, us warriors. We both have our objectives, our loyalties. I figure we ought to maintain a certain level of respect. Our states may have their conflict, but that's no reason for us to spite one another, not in such circumstances. Wouldn't you agree, Miss...?"
(OOC: Diplomacy check on Taitanath. W00t for half-elven racial bonuses on diplomacy checks.