Naethra had been looking over the magical items, with an ear towards Eve. She didn't trust the gnoll, but her attention ended up focused on the bag Red had discarded. The magic seemed faint, but she recognized the pattern. It was a spell she used to know, when she still mantled the Fae's power. She couldn't grasp it any longer, like a half forgotten dream that stubbornly eluded recognition. It was... almost sad to see again. A reminder of all she'd lost.
She looked up to see the gnoll holding a very frightened squirrel.
"Maeve's tits," she cursed in Sylvan. If Gwyn got lose, they might never find her again. She grabbed the spider wand (which was, alas, rubbish, but better than nothing) and tried to use it again, targeting Gwyn and wondering if the gnoll had betrayed them already.
((And I rolled 20.))