Then you should talk back.
GRANDMOTHER WILLOW: Don't be frightened, young man. My bark is worse than my bite.
POCAHONTAS: Say something.
What do you say to a tree?
POCAHONTAS: Anything you want.
JOHN SMITH: So...
GRANDMOTHER WILLOW: Come closer, John Smith. He has a good soul. And he's handsome, too!
JOHN SMITH: Oh, I like her.
POCAHONTAS: I knew you would.
BEN: Smith! Smith, where are you, mate?
JOHN SMITH: We can't let them see us.
GRANDMOTHER WILLOW: Quick! Over here.
LON: This place gives me the creeps. Savages could be hiding anywhere.
BEN: If you spot one, don't ask questions. Just shoot. Watch your feet, you big oaf!
LON: It wasn't me! It was the tree.
BEN: Of course! The tree just felt like lifting its roots... Let's get out of here. Run!
LON: But what about Smith?
BEN: He's a big lad, he can take care of himself!
JOHN SMITH: I'm glad you're on our side.
GRANDMOTHER WILLOW: There's still some snap in these old vines.
JOHN SMITH: I better get back before they send the whole camp after me.
POCAHONTAS: When will I see you again?
JOHN SMITH: Meet me tonight, right here.
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