Taran made some kind of an audible sigh when Mack rammed into him. He was going to deliver more clever remarks, but it appears that Mack had no intention of listening. This wasn't the first time that his battle partner had ignored everything he was saying. It wasn't the first time he'd been a victim of his tar stains, either, but he wished that last time would have been his last. He pulled the cloth of his shirt out to examine the damage, and then let it drop. He shot Mack a look that signified displeasure.<br/><br/>The metal claw that Taran had equipped began to steam in the light shower, and turned a scarily bright shade of red. It also made a small noise, not entirely unlike a kettle that was at boiling temperature. He watched as Mack tried to look for a place to bolt, and seemed to be disappointed. Well, he couldn't have Mack escape this time, because who knew when they would encounter each other again. So without further hesitation, Taran struck.<br/><br/>He started towards Mack with as much speed as he could muster. Granted, with the armor and the wings and the size, the maximum speed he achieved wasn't great. He kicked his legs in the wet earth, kicking up a combination of both mud and sand. He retracted the hand with the gauntlet behind him, and then when he thought he was close enough, plunged it forwards in Mack's general direction, wisps of steam trailing behind it.