Celris moved backwards, taking several small, speedy steps. "Well then the way we've been breathing we're all set to spontaneously combust!"<br/>Osbourne observed Celris, clearly shaking and just barely keeping herself from bolting. Far was not something his kind felt often. It was nigh impossible to torture him, his sense of touch was very limited. The only fear he felt was of Mother, but that fear was reverent, and the fear of destruction, of course, but that was difficult to do as well. An image flashed in his head, Osbourne, the HighBreed, struck down - possibly by his own kind, conclusion is pending - trapped forever in the dark abyss of a spring, unable to move. Unable to serve. Unable to fly. There had been true fear, the kind that the Feral must be feeling, one so attuned to her instincts that she'd felt it at first scent.<br/>Osbourne stepped forward, lifting his weapon, "My opinion is weighted, I doubt you two are immune to fire, and I have experience with heat. I vote we fight."<br/>He traced the obsidian blade and twirled the halberd, "Nevertheless, if we do end up fighting it a one-strike kill is recommended."<br/>Celris nodded, "I say we get busy hoofing it, but I doubt that thing'll just let us go. And we don't know how far its range is." She scowled at the thought of being burned alive with her back to the enemy, and quelled another wave of fear. "Do we have plans of action?"<br/>Osbourne pointed his blade to the creature's eye, "I suggest we hit the unarmored portion-"<br/>Celris snapped cutting him off, "Not all of us have<span style="font-style: italic">wings</span>, HighBreed! How do we get up there?"<br/>Osbourne considered this, and held out an arm, "I could try to lift one of you, but I could only lift one and still fly...the other would be left without backup and in the gas, alone. We need to think of power here, who can kill the fastest?"<br/>He turned to Crane, not giving Celris a second glance, making her grind her teeth, cheeky little bucket of scrap.