Poor Kevin. Due to the nature of his fate, or perhaps destiny and prophecy had decided to be particularly interesting, a new bow showed up one evening as everyone slept. It only worked for Kevin, each time he pulled back, an arrow forming. The arrow type depended what was on his mind and in his heart, from healing ones that, when striking an ally, healed their illnesses and wounds, to deadly ones. He shot in anger into the trees after someone insulted his mother, and ended up causing a particularly large tree to explode.
The bow only looked like a regular shortbow. If it had been purchased, gifted, or otherwise turned up normally, there wouldn't have been a problem. The fact that it was in Kevin's sleeping hand, first thing in the morning, was a problem that Wraithvine would prefer to approach from a vast distance.
Ma Oxbrydl had similar reservations. "It's probably safe in his hands? But I don't like this gifts from a dream horseshit."
"In that, we are similarly paranoid," said Wraithvine, skirting hir cautious way around the sleeping hero. Ze noted that Ma Oxbrydl had scooped up Scut the Goblin thief and was holding her on her hip like a sickly child. Cautious, Wraithvine said a magic word that would instantly rouse Kevin. "Breakfast."