Valentine Mikelus
Valentine had experienced many strange events over the course of his life, but waking up to an (admittedly very attractive) girl aiming an arrow at his eye, standing on his face, and having evidently just kicked him in the groin was certainly a new one.
His brain was quick to process the available information. There was no way of knocking the arrow aside; if he could get it out of his face by other means, however, he could stand up, tackle her, and break her neck before she could make much noise. His knife was inside his boot, but he couldn't reach it without her releasing the bowstring. His other weapons were in his pack, and getting those was even less likely.
For now, he needed to convince her to remove the arrow. But to do that, he'd need to think about it extensively, and he was running out of time to answer.
With nothing coming to his mind, he simply did what he would do if someone had woken him up early at home, in order to try and start a conversation and buy him some time to think.
"Shut up and go away. I'm sleeping," he groaned.