For a brief second he sat there, blinking. He was over four hundred pounds in the armor, and she had thrown him... with ease. He shook his head, the wall debris falling from his cowl, then glared and lurched to his feet, stomping up to the maelstrom in the bubble of Kristoff's shields.
"YOU DARE!" he bellowed at Maxine, pointing up at her, finger almost right on Kristoff's forcefield. "YOU WOULD INCUR THE WRATH OF DOOM?!" Never mind that he had just incurred hers. "YOU FOOLISH - LITTLE -... WOMAN!"
This was how at a loss and sputtering he was. He had no insults, none that truly suited her, anyhow.