Gajol had to suppress a bit of a laugh when Elta pointed out the fact that there were other methods of stopping her without resorting to violence. "I suppose so," she said, cracking a bit of a grin. "Once, a group of comrades kept me floored with a<i>wand of Grease</i>and four bags of marbles." In spite of the frenzy that was part of the subject matter, it still seemed to be a pleasant, albeit somewhat embarrassing memory, something for Gajol to recall with no small amount of fondness. Other than what she said, Gajol remained still with the exception of her breathing.<br/><br/>When the spell finished, what Elta could feel and the little bits that she could see of Gajol's wounds, for the most part, disappeared. There were still marks on her back that were an angry red and looked rather sore, but they were trivial in comparison to the nasty gashes that were there but moments ago. "Many thanks, Elta," Gajol said with sincerity. "You'd best heal both yourself and Mirnea, as we can't have anybody dying on us if we can help it."<br/><br/>Falameezar scoffed at the lot of them. "<span style="color: olive">Oh! You consider what scratches you all may have as wounds? Those paper cuts are naught but insults to the damage I could inflict on all of you.</span>" In spite of the harshness of his words, Gajol still found it very difficult to take him seriously, what with his rather adorable size. She smiled at him before saying, "May I ask where you found this cute dragon? He seems rather friendly."<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>