Tetelo has been watching with bemusement the various antics of the weird, weird group of people, one eyebrow lifted as she sips her drink.
Then the flaming rats burst in. The half-fey eyes the monsters. On fire. Feral.
And she decides to wait for others to engage their attention first; no sense in attracting their particular ire.

After a few stout lads have engaged the rats inside, Tetelo raises her hands, and speaks a short phrase, a greeting in the Aquan language, Creating Water to put out the worst of the fire started; the animalskin rug. If the rat gets splashed as well? Merely a bonus. If the person fighting the rat gets splashed as well? Merely an amusing bonus.