Following the elf, Gyra choose to ignore the blood running down her cheek. 'I can heal once there's a moment to catch my breath.' she thought, pulling her wings against her back. "Bounty, prestige, honor, revenge, or dumb luck of being in the wrong place at the right time.Take your pick. I can't really complain since I knew what I was walking into. Well partially knew anyway, didn't except an old adversary to come calling." she states while glancing over her shoulder. Focusing her telepathy and empathy down where she just came along, Gyra felt nothing of the group that she fought. "Now they decide to leave me alone. How considerate." she mocked rolling her eyes. Dematerializing her armor, except for her sword and knives, she set healing magic to medium low. "Name's Gyra, and you are?" Gyra asked, sheathing the sword on her sword belt.