Some days into the melee (if it really could be called that - there was fighting involved, after all!), Glorfindel would find himself crossing paths with Nita, already knee-deep in weeds and furious conversation.

/You're going to crowd out your own resources at this rate - and don't try to pretend to me that you haven't already! So unless you enjoy getting fried, then move along, and we'll all be better off./

The look on her face was scathing; she hadn't noticed any arrivals yet.