The Heartwood and I can't feel no remorse, and you don't feel nothing back

Her head snapped up at the sound of another, the voice renting the silence of the wood. Emeralds narrowed considerably, but it was in response to the sharp pain the movement had caused rather than aggression. She was of half a mind to simply continue on, disregarding the male, but it was the sincerity in the question that had her pause, watching the grayscale man a moment. He was large, burly, and even at this distance, the light of his turquoise gaze was visible against the storminess of the rest of him. 

She took a wary step toward him, displaying now her trust of him, however slight. If she believed him to have sought to harm her, she'd hardly have remained much longer. "I'm alright," It was true, surely, for she most certainly was not at her best, and yet hardly was she dying. Her father's wound was not the slashing tear of one attempting to take her life, but rather deep puncture marks that oozed still, the odd laceration where he'd grabbed her away from him. "who are you?"