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While the man was grateful, he was also surprised.

"You're ... certain?" he asked, suspicious of a trick. "I don't have to worry about another shot in the back the moment I turn away?"

The man was temped to ask if he wouldn't mind bandaging up his shoulder so that he wouldn't attract any wild animals on his way home again, but from his point of view he had already pushed his luck farther - much farther - than it should theoretically have gone.

"You have my word," he nodded seriously, only honesty (and pain) in his eyes. "Just ... let me take some supplies with me ... at least some food ... you can keep my gold, if I go home with gold no one would believe that we were caught ..."

Though truth be told he was glad it was over.

The man nodded, relief surging through him.

"Thank you," he said sincerely, fighting the pain in his shoulder. "Now ... will you let me up?"

He was still being pinned down, after all, and he needed to get his supplies together. He wouldn't be able to hunt at all until his shoulder healed at least, and he would be hard pressed to defend himself if attacked. He needed everything he could get.

The man struggled once more to rise to his feet, holding his wounded shoulder and wincing painfully. He staggered over to a bag that was laying on the ground and dumped it upside down, spilling out a large quantity of gold, a flask, several packages of food, and a blanket. He took a corner of the blanket between his teeth and ripped a long strip off of it, then started to wrap it around his shoulder to staunch the wound.

Celeborn by this time had finally succeeded in quieting the children, but when he saw the man treating his wound, he headed over to Donovan.

"What's going on?" he asked in a low tone, his eyes on the slaver. "Why are you letting him go like that?"

Celeborn sighed, watching the man as he dressed his wound.

"I don't understand how anyone who has kids of their own could ever participate in actions like these," he growled. "And why not leave once he did find out what the job was?"

He paused.

"Still ... fear without torture can at times be more effective than fear with torture ... and if the man has to go home to his children, they at least don't deserve to be traumatized by the event. If he truly has learned his lesson ..."

Though he somehow doubted that to be the case. He had no proof either way, it was just his suspicious view.

Celeborn nodded thoughtfully.

"I trust your judgment, Donovan," he murmured softly. "I just hope that your judgment is correct."

He looked back at the man. "He should know who he was almost killed by."

Celeborn nodded, then headed over to the man. He knew he wouldn't need to say much - he was positive the man would recognize him.

"You are a very lucky human," he said, coming up behind the man and startling him.

The man whirled around at Celeborn's voice, and when he saw the tattoo on the elf's neck, he paled again.

"No," Celeborn said firmly, "we're not going to kill you. I believe my colleague has already promised you that. You knew you were lucky. Now you know how lucky."

He reached down and picked up the arrow that had been in the man's shoulder from the ground, then held it out to him.

"Keep it," he said shortly. "Show it to people. If nothing else, this will convince them."

He tapped his finger on a section of the arrow's shaft. "This. Make sure they know."

And with that, he dropped the arrow at the human's feet and returned to Donovan.