Eirny's eyes pierced the sand and discerned the group shortly after Ovra's did. She watched the scene unfold with large eyes, clenching her staff more tightly to herself when the horse was struck and the rider thrown. [color=mediumpurple]"Maker's breath..."[/color], she muttered under her breath. It hurt to watch the innocent creature injured to stop the one she bore only moments before. The smell of singed hair and flesh joined the wind and sand, turning her stomach; she watched the creature lie still as death. Whether it was momentarily stunned or truly dead, she could not tell.

Then Ovra's yell snapped her out of her momentary daze. "Time to move," and Eirny watched as the dwarf moved to place herself between the attackers and the fallen figure. The small elf would usually be feeling anxious at the situation, but this time she felt the anger bubbling up. After the call, she barely hesitated a moment before moving from her vantage to form up with the others. She tried to spare a glance at the person, but as they were face down in the sand, she couldn't make out much. She looked back to their leader now, awaiting further orders.

Almost assuredly, Eirny knew that Ovra hoped to gain something from this be it money, knowledge, or otherwise else she would not risk it. She knew enough to know that she thought it worth their time and resources to intervene, especially with at least one Tevinter mage involved. Right at this moment, Eirny held no good thought for the group; for all she knew, they were slavers chasing a runaway slave. That would explain why they attacked the horse and not the rider: didn't want to damage the goods. Already, she imagined the necessary focus and energy needed to place a paralysis glyph that would catch any but those she designated. She had recognized the order to stand down unless otherwise told, but she would be ready nonetheless.