Gertrude allowed herself a rare smile. It wasn't necessarily that she enjoyed the killing, though she did at that, but the felling of that great flying worm emboldened her. She was the last person anyone would accuse of low self-confidence, but she wasn't sure she could have done it in one hit before. Did she get stronger?

Then Rolan piped up, and Gertrude was forced to consider that she probably only got the clean hit due to the smoke and flame Rolan had provided. Otherwise, the creature would likely have evaded a little better. Perhaps she was stronger, but the backup wasn't entirely unhelpful.

"Haaah? Is that it?" Gertrude shot back, obviously displeased with the man's reaction to her amazing magic, "you can cower, if you'd like. It's not every day someone is treated to front row seats for my unparalleled spellcasting and not [i]also dead[/i]."

Though Gertrude's words were displeased and argumentative, she slowed at Rolan's request so that he could take his shots. They'd proven their air superiority by felling the worm, and she doubted many more creatures would want to challenge them after the display. From her vantage point, she could see the entire battlefield (at least, what wasn't obscured by foliage) and determined that each fight seemed relatively close but still in their favor. Rolan had pretty quickly determined the standout in the Houndmaster, due to the sheer numbers he commanded. He was shameless in using this advantage, but at least prideful or barbaric enough to get into close quarters.

This would likely be the decision that saw him slain.

While Rolan worked on the hounds, Gertrude looked for an opportunity. Once again, she didn't have the aim for something purely destructive. Fleuri and Fanilly were sticking to the Houndmaster, which was the correct decision, but it put them in the line of fire. Then again, damage wasn't their problem. It was numbers and regeneration. Rolan was on numbers, now...

Gertrude held her spell. The next time the Houndmaster received a crippling strike, Gertrude would hit the wound with a Crystal Prison. By covering the injury over in ice, she figured, it might keep him from grafting using the few mutts that might break through. At least long enough to fatally wound him.