It's nothing. Likely better to save your magic in case we run into something...

[At least he's familiar with what a cleric is! Wrathion gestures to the weeping woman in white. She does not appear to be able to see him, but it seems as if the gesture incites her to violence, where movement did nothing before.

When the white-clad woman lunges, so does he--directly at her, lifting his scimitar to fend off the clawlike fingers. Wrathion is quick enough, but he's a bit busy pushing her away and protecting both himself and his new ally to be in the presence of mind to conjure anything that might help him. It seems he and the fae are in a stalemate, for the moment. He grunts.]

I would not mind a hand now, however! She's stronger than she looks!