Psyche stared back, eyes slightly narrowed. Hound was the one with the nickname 'Patron Saint of Lost Causes' and he lived up to that, despite what he might think of himself. Psyche wasn't anything like that.
Psyche knew there were some things she could do. Some probably much kinder but time consuming. They didn't have that right now. Psyche backed up a few steps and extended her hand - fed the power from echoes of irritation, frustration, panic, and worry - and sent a warning blast whistling past the girl's head, the blast hitting the wall behind her with a painful crack.
"I'm warning you once: go back down or get out of here. I don't need a burden."
And with that, Psyche turned off the heel of her boot and ran upwards without looking back.