Elta is still breathing heavily as Minera enters the room.  Her head is killing her, while the beast didn't manage to injure her too badly, she slinks to the floor across from Gajol.  The barbarian had turned on her...while she was aware the strain of combat with the demonic could cause all sorts of 'issues' to ones mental status.  She didn't take it personally...she knew she'd be dead if it wasnt' for the other woman.  Clutching her side she rises to her feet and as Gajol does. "<span style="color: orange"><b>Let me patch us up a bit first?" </b></span>the nails that ripped through her flesh was stinging . She then recalls the injury Gajol sustained . Always one to think of others before her self...even those who would turn on her in a breath, she had sworn to protect and heal.<br/><br/><b><span style="color: orange">"C'mere butch.."</span></b>she teases weakly, reaching a hand out to turn Gajol around and poking at her armor. The claws made quick work of the metal. She adjusts her eyes to the low light and stares,<span style="color: orange"><b>"I can't tell how deep that is with all your armor on..Did it feel like the claws went in exceptionally deep?" <br/>
</b></span><br/>Eltas hands prod at the metal of Gajol's armor, tempted to poke a finger right into the wound to check and see how bad it was for her self...<span style="color: orange"><b>"Don't smack me..." </b></span>she teases ..sorta teases at least.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>