Having also noticed the male halfling conversing with Sharphorn, Runa nodded. Most caravans wouldn't have sent a merchant to talk with someone on behalf of the entire caravan, let alone someone as unintentionally intimidating as Sharphorn. She was just glad that the halfling had the sense to ask questions first and shoot later, only if necessary of course. She had seen too many people react with violence to her friend's appearance. As such, she understood Thorgili's jumpiness perfectly. All of her muscles felt like they were on the brink of exploding into action, a kind of nervous energy she usually only experienced when the owners of the house she was breaking into came home early. Wishing that Sharphorn would hurry up and give them the signal that everything was okay, Runa kept her arrow nocked on the bow, ready to let loose at a moment's notice.