[Erik is more alarmed by the fire, now. The noise of surprise he makes when the blue flames shoot into the midst of his battle with the nasty little creatures is an undignified yelp.

He regards her and her offered hand with warry suspicion as he pulls himself up to his full height (just an inch under her) again, brushing down the front of his shirt to remove some of the charred splinters the brutoks have left behind.]

Thank you. Yes, they are rather like a thorn in one's side, aren't they? You seem to know their ways; do you know what they are called?