"Sorry, but every last living spell was turning toward you as I started. You might have survived one of them taking a pot shot, but all thirty or so? I wouldn't want to have to tell my wife and soon to be hatched child her mother or grandmother isn't coming home."<br/><br/>He glanced down, and winced. "Did it also do something to your lower leg? Or does it naturally twist like that?"<br/><br/>Taking a closer look at her, it looked more like she had gotten raked by a cone of cold rather than a ray like what he had seen, as she was not lying correctly, and her leg, while not quite unnatural in its angel, was definitely not looking like a normal leg. She was likely numb on the side she had gotten hit on, and mostly moving on attitude and fear, hence the peckish, almost waspish, anger at him.