Janna draws her sword from a catch in the man's armor with a hiss of steel, and a softer exhalation.  As Ravyn passes her, moving in, the woman tilts her head in acknowledgement.  Then snorts when she resorts to a fist, the warrior laughs.  "I hope that fel' good, lass.  Bloody hop--"  She whips around as the sound of combat catches back up with her from behind, weapons back up and ready.  Glee is tempered by the sights; pair of dragons, mighty demons, one of their companions falling beneath the bulk of a fel being, and the assorted other party members spread out loosely.<br/><br/>"Bloody 'ell!"  With the magic of her cloak drained, she takes a more pedestrian advance.  A loud warcry is the early warning of a charge that has her barreling toward the fight again, even if her eyes are wide with fright and adrenaline.<br/><br/>She still smiles.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>