She's rather late, but might as well be. There's a fierce gust of wind that signals her arrival, and honey, you best be wearing a jacket. The snow queen has arrived.

With a fierce stomp of her delicate heel, Elsa sends a crawling streak of ice towards her target; Galos.

Whatever lies in her way would either be frozen, or meet her powers head on.

Only the most observant would notice that the streak of ice branches out into whatever's nearby; a signal that she's not completely in control. No, her emotions would either get the best of her or they would hold her back, and she concluded after careful thought, she wasn't going to be held back. Anything that attempted to stifle or stomp her would be met with a wall of ice, her reach being far, but her attentiveness not fast enough to push away several enemies at once. Elsa keeps her distance for her own safety.

Any allies of hers may be wise not to stand between her or her enemy. Even wiser, to help her get even closer to Galos.

At his exclamation, she purses her lips into a stern, stern frown. She would succeed, or she would kill herself trying.