Dragon Age 3.5

Branwen scrambles back to her feet from where she'd thrown herself against the wall. She rolls one shoulder, then the other, then her neck, as though resettling her rattled bones. Then she takes a few quick steps forward and back along the side of the fallen door, too limited by the cramped space and the remains of their shackles to properly be called pacing but agitation obvious in her movements.

"M'fine. I dunno what you lot know about medicine, but we've got a proper healer smashed under the door." She sounds more exasperated than distraught, truly, but there's a wildness in the way she moves her hands, first to dismiss Qalaba's query on her own behalf, then to indicate Edan.

She crouches by where the other mage is pinned, fluttering their fingers over the edge of the door without actually making a move to lift it. Knife's curses at least mark them as conscious, but Edan's pretty well under the thing. With the two at opposite corners as they are, Branwen suspects a careless attempt to free one of them might put more pressure on the other.

"They're right though," and now she indicates Gerta with a flick of her not-quite-flailing hands (because they've not really had time to exchange proper introductions, and while Branwen has never met a dwarf before she suspects singling Gerta out as 'the dwarf' might be more than passing rude). "I mean, yeah, let's get this thing up and off soonest, but a bit less with the rushing maybe?"