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[center][i]Towering Giant, Survival of the Fittest[/i][/center]
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What had occurred in the span of a few moments had left Hafrbjǫrn at the ready, although the tide of battle wavered at their favor it didn't demonstrate any means of of ever halting anytime soon. Garrett seemed to have downed the monster that clutched to him without a means of respite. Now pox, who laid stricken due to his previous injury now healed the young knight. The giant once more took upon himself to take notice at his left hand, it trembled under the weight of a pain brought upon that explosion. He could feel the tendons swelling and the joint stiffening further. Gripping the axe properly with both hands would reduce his ability to deliver a proper finishing blow. He could still manage with it, but his chances have decreased rather prominently. He sheathed his smaller axe, and once again brought to his grip the larger one. Sybille was his priority, as she was still chanting... Whatever she has been doing was certainly something of impact, something that would cease the continuation of this fruitless battle. A deep inhale, followed by a slow controlled exhale. Eyes gazing towards the entrance as more made their way in, tracking towards the far end somewhere upon the center, there stood the Queen upon her throne, bellowing its presence upon the Irregulars. Cockroaches the lot of them, if one fell three took its place. Hafrbjǫrn placed his hand on Garret shoulder and the two shared a glance. Once more not a word was utter on behalf of the giants mouth, but the firmness of the grip spoke of something foolish. If they were to be embroiled in a battle of tenacity, then... Perhaps after the head has been taken care, the rest will surely follow. Like before, he handed the young knight the bow he picked up on the previous battle before entering this place. 

Their eyes connected once more, Hafrbjǫrn was trusting that Garrett would deliver suppressive fire towards those who would dare loosened their fury upon them. Hopefully, the same Snakemen were vulnerable to their own poison, but somehow the giant didn't believe. His feet stomped the earth beneath his heel in a furious display to stampede towards the entrance past the swordsman, grip on axe tightened, trashing through them. He needed to buy time, that Sybille had the only hope she could offer. And with a large yell, he kicked the ground to propel himself further to the air, and with one hand this time, had prepared to clobber the beast that were incoming under his might, if not get their attention. He could sustain a bit more than the others, it was time to play the shield.