The green robes and stillness of the stranger mean that it takes Barcus a long few minutes to notice him. Gradually, the gnome sits up, rubs his hands together like they still hurt, and squints uncertainly at the canopy of trees above. That, at least, might convince the elf that he's not much of a threat, given how long he's oblivious to his presence.

He starts when he hears the voice, silver-grey eyes flicking around a moment before he sees him--

Huh. He doesn't know the face, but he knows the phrase. Beleth said it, when they first met. "Andaran atish’an," he echoes, and maybe the accent isn't as perfect as a native speaker, but it does sound like he's spoken the words before.

Of course, he also has to hope it's not cheeky for him to say the words back. It wouldn't do to be rude to a newcomer to...wait. Oh. Oh, dear. "Ah...where...? This isn't Caldera."

It's not really a question, but the answer that seems to be staring him in the face is terrifying. How did this happen? He drags himself to his feet slowly, and he might actually be shorter than a Dwarf, once you see him standing at his full height. Definitely more delicately built than many; a little grey bird of a person.

"Shit," he says, suddenly remembering a bit more of the Dalish lore he's been told. "I'm trespassing, aren't I? My apologies. I mean you no harm."