He scowled at her. Yes, while they're closing in on him to attack, he is taking the time to look at her and scowl. Simply because he was weakened by the journey, it did not mean he needed to be helped. Or saved. Or whatever else these fools felt it necessary to do.

He touched his forehead, mumbling a spell under his breath. Flecks of frost shimmered in the air around him. He brought his hand down and out. Sheets of ice formed around him, crushing the Crimson Jazzes that were swarming on him.

He looked at her again. This was a weaker spell.

It only took a moment for the ice to vanish, the energy of the hurting them further as it dissipated into the quickly warming air.