"Sure there is!" he objected. Thorax just let out a frustrated noise. Handy was meanwhile trying to work up the nerve to try to leap over the, frankly, small flames and just hope to God his armour and soaked cloak kept the fire from his flesh. Each time he took off at a run to make the attempt, something deep, intrinsic to him, pulled him back. It was an almost physical force, pulling at his skin to draw him away from the fire. The three of them continued to panic as the fire slowly encroached. Handy was almost certain he was going to lose it until...