The tear leads to the backyard of a little cottage at the edge of some woods, where a man who looks plausibly human at first glance is picking cherry-plums. He was not expecting company, let alone magically appearing company, but apparently that's what's happening today.
"Yes... they generally are, but I guess I don't know if they always will be around here."
"No, I know why they'd need healing. What do they tend to do about not liking us?"
"Hmm. If you're like us, then a lot of things go well for you. When you drop things they don't roll out of reach unless digging them out of wherever they wound up would be fun or educational or you'd find something else with them. If you're flipping a coin to decide what to do, you'll usually get good advice. And humans aren't like that. So even if they knew how to kill a fae, or had the persistence to just keep beating you up forever, something would happen to get in their way, because their luck is worse. That and they always have urgent appointments because everything is urgent with them because they're all dying. So if some humans ever do start trying to beat you up you can just wait them out."
"I imagine they vary, yes... I'm not sure what else I ought to be asking, hm."