She'd thank the Light that they've found something less disgusting to discuss, if they weren't discussing Pit Lords. Her face visibly pales, and she can't quite suppress the quiver creeping back into her voice.

"Your options then are... limited. You may fight, or you may flee." And one of those options will only delay the inevitable. Disgusting creature or not, the troll has a certain childlike sense about her. Telling her that her only option is to die is, well...

She still covers her mouth, but not because she feels sick.