Her nose wrinkles at his comment on her stature (she is a normal height for an elf, thank you, not everyone can be a genetically modified super solider), but deigns to press a comment on the matter. Mostly because he's right, she does rely on stealth in combat, and at the moment, she's as stealthy and combat ready as a marching band.
She doesn't even have access to her bow, or her poisons (not that any of them would work on him).
There is a sudden and distinct impression of two people attempting to speak to each other in different dialects of the same language. The words that he are speaking make sense, theoretically. Sure, the tavern is a little chaotic, and it is true that demons are drawn to strong emotions. But rowdy drunks rarely break into bouts of possession, and he seems quite sure that they are but a sneeze away from drowning in abominations.
It might be best, she decides, to attempt to assuage his fears, lest they carry him away. "I do not deal with demons, and I have no desire to do so. They can lurk until they get bored of me sitting here and jingling away, for all the good it will do them."
no subject
She doesn't even have access to her bow, or her poisons (not that any of them would work on him).
There is a sudden and distinct impression of two people attempting to speak to each other in different dialects of the same language. The words that he are speaking make sense, theoretically. Sure, the tavern is a little chaotic, and it is true that demons are drawn to strong emotions. But rowdy drunks rarely break into bouts of possession, and he seems quite sure that they are but a sneeze away from drowning in abominations.
It might be best, she decides, to attempt to assuage his fears, lest they carry him away. "I do not deal with demons, and I have no desire to do so. They can lurk until they get bored of me sitting here and jingling away, for all the good it will do them."