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         It was a good swing, Yala would have undoubtedly given a low whistle as she watched the knight fly a not so gracious curve through the air. Yet the situation surely hadn't been solved, her eyes were still cautiously darting around the small battlefield. The man practically right underneath her had aided in demolishing the Knights, yet done so with a more than strange weapon, the Orc which has slightly put her to shame earlier didn't seem to be done with them, even as they called for a retreat. She herself was unfortunately unable to either reveal in the quite easy victory, or even join Tsarrack in harrowing the fleeing Knights.

Magic, oh how she detested it. The attack was rather shameful as a blackened claw was suddenly reached from one of the fleeing Knights, slashing her right across the chest. It struck, she flinched and took a singular step back. That was perhaps the worst part of it. Pouting she took a glance down at her own chest. Observing the throbbing wound across her chest while furrowing her brows. The wound weren't all that worrying, the magic perhaps a little more, a terrifying chill rolling down her at the mere touch.

She planted her axe into the ground, although for others it'd be more of a slam, perhaps a little close to the strangers head. She patted her own chest, feeling how much pain it caused, turning around to look at the others with a quizzical look. As if asking if they know what the hell just happened. True, she had mostly followed through on the charge after being spurred by the Orc, but maybe it wasn't too wise leaving room for one to escape, both that and the wound across her chest.

Without really thinking about it she instinctively searched the shrubbery for Trevor. Hopefully he'd not feel too awkward tending to her, not that he had much choice in the matter, despite, he's the only one who'd know the nature of what she was just hit by. Even if the wound was rather badly placed