Grak bowed his head in aquiesence. She continued her glare for a full second before she whirled away.
"Stupid, show-off orc," she muttered to herself as she stomped her way to the dazed-looking survivors. "How am I supposed to top that? Inconsiderate, I tell you." She kicked a downed body in the plate armor to get their attention.
She gave a satisfied smirk when every last one of them cowered away. A small part of her brain realized that they thought she was the one who'd thrown lightning at them, but she ignored it. "Well, I can't help but wonder why you fine men were chasing after us with bare steel," she kept her voice just loud enough for all of them to hear.
She waited until the whimpers died down. "Now, seeing as you're a bit... indisposed, if you should begin hobbling back the direction you came, we won't feel the need to finish what we've started. Deal?"
She stood imposingly while every last man turned tail and limped away. The fact that a twelve-year-old weaver's apprentice would be intimidating to them didn't trouble her in the slightest. She watched them until they disappeared into tiny specks on the horizon.
Then she stomped back to the orc. "Well? Keep walking."
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