A discrete offering to Sylaise

Suddenly, one of the roots cracked and twisted around Jorah's ankle, abruptly pulling him off of his feet, up the side of the boulder and into the air, while more grew to restrain his shoulders to the stone. The Mesonero made to reach for the dagger at his side, but his arm was clamped to his abdomen in the middle of the move to reach for it, his fingers inches from the knob of the hilt. Uhh... he shivered when the roots halted, nervously glancing towards Devante with a guilty plea in his eyes.

Do you know what I should do? This is a first for me...