The stag-like creature straightened, as if it would stop the trembling of his hands and hooves. For all the world he tried to tower over the human with his 7 foot advantage, finding he didn't care much for the insinuation that he was weaker than the rest.

"I believe my people are fey-born," Prometheus' accent was flat, even condescending. "but not immortal. I'm no young buck anymore. When you reach a certain age, Mr. Kirok, you might find your hands betray your archer's head as well....and if you must know, I'm feeling [i]much[/i] better than when I awoke to that dry fool." He tossed his hair in the direction of the old man and snorted, before taking a few calming breaths. 

"Better to be safe than sorry. Humans can't go much longer than a fortnight without food, yes? If it is a currency, we might be able to purchase sustenance, rather than skewer the island lizards."