Like Dread, Pride was unaware of the mental battle enmeshing the two opponents. He waited with mounting impatience, lowering his head and nudging at Baneberry with his antlers. They had to leave this place before this situation got even more out of hand. They had to de-escalate it.
Behind him, Reseda was still giving snarky remarks. Why do we tolerate this..? She should be killed, now, for this arrogance. She is nothing but problematic. And at her claim that she had not named him, he rounded with disbelief. "Why lie when I myself am present..?" he asked, blankly. "You gauged my personality, I suppose, but you chose the name. And deemed it 'sin.' The entire idea of a group of 'sins' is foolish to begin with--almost as ridiculous as calling ourselves 'blood berries,'" he added dourly. "She did not name me after you, King Envy, but she had in her mind an idea of Gembound all following her, doing her bidding, 'sins' in the caves. Grandiose fantasy," he added darkly. "She is nothing but a would-be tyrant; her ability to lead would have been as poor as her skills in manipulation."
The words were cutting--they were meant to be; but Reseda had been ignoring most 'words' thus far, so Pride wasn't overly concerned about their effect. Likely she would ignore him, as she had been doing.
He was turning to leave again when she began shouting. He was, still, unaware of any magic having taken place--to him, Reseda's roars were a warning of impending attack, though her shouting about 'clouding her mind' was noted. He turned, eyes flashing with warning, a cold and steely rage tearing through him. He wasn't sure what Baneberry had done, if anything, but he was not about to let Reseda unleash her energy magic on their prisoner. He, above all, knew how deadly it could be, and how fast. Despite having failed a moment before at his own magic, he reached for it again without thinking, his only thought that Reseda must be stopped.
The magic lashed out, his intent to lift Reseda several feet up and simply throw her away, tumbling through air and over ground. It wasn't a skid along the ground: it was an attempt to outright throw. With it came what, in a red deer stag of maturity, might have been an intimidating roar--but from Pride, with his musical voice, it was a high-pitched siren of rage.
"ENOUGH!"