And just like that, the cheek and playfulness fell away. If she’d had her Aunt Antiope’s headpiece, she’d have been wearing it, because Diana had gone, and Wonder Woman stood in her place. Even without the armor and accoutrements, there was a marked difference as she dropped the lamppost. She didn’t need it, and being friendly hadn’t worked. She had heard of Thor’s sister before, out of his own mouth, and she knew the danger.
“Then what do you need all the help for?” She had time to think that perhaps she had spent a little too much time around Steve Trevor and his particular brand of smart-mouthed humans before the Jotuns came for her.
Diana let them, and if they had stopped to look at her, they might have stopped entirely. Her face was a mask of grim determination and complete lack of concern, and she held their deaths in her eyes. Still, they were larger than her, and foolish, and some were not of their own minds. Thor seemed to be attempting some sort of parley here, which seemed unwise when violence had already been chosen, but all the same, she ignored that portion of events.
She had larger, more pressing issues, though less so as Thor shorted one an arm. She nodded her gratitude, took that one out at the knee and crushed his skull beneath her foot, and then used his detached arm to deal with the other two. It was much more effective and lighter than the lamppost had been to begin with. The Jotuns did not even last long enough for Hela to answer him, though there were more behind them, and Diana threw the arm she’d been using at Hela’s feet, more or less.
Now she was tacky with blue blood and sweat, and angrier than she’d been in quite some time.