Alright... things were going better.
Two wolves down. The one that was up hadn't exactly taken much damage, near as Naethra could tell. (What did a wolf on the verge of crippling, submisive arousal look like, anyway? Naethra really did not want to know...) That said, a few people had flung attacks and spells at the big one, and...
Naethra winced. She was pissed. That damn wolf-thing had tried to do something to her, and very nearly succeeded, and the cute elf-bard was still half tree-rat. It was... disconcerting, to be truthful, but it had taken a few hits and hadn't managed to take anyone down. All things considered, this was looking like one of their better fights, even if they did go into it flat-footed and unprepared. Maybe it was time to take down the alpha.
Naehtra steadied her feet, feeling the leaves of her hair rustle with the wind and movement. She touched the font of fae-energy within her, channeled it through her focus, tempered by her wrath and spite, and threw it at the bitch that had made her feel so small and scared.
(Casting Eldritch Blast: 19 (d20) + 5 (charisma and proficiency) = 24. Damage = 1 + 3 + 1 = 5 Lightning Damage)