"Always fer a friend." Baz growls, pulling out two cigars and offering one to Halvorson. "Why's it so yiffin' warm down here? Ugh, what I'd do for the snow of home..."<br/><br/>He's interrupted by a loud scream from Mad, her body reacting to the Medic's terror before she can think, or work out what's happened. She stops, gets her breath back and looks up. "...Where'd  the medic go? I felt his terror, he's gone. Wha' heppened?"<br/>_________________<br/><br/>As the wolf hits the ground, Jania explodes into action, rearing up onto her hind legs and scything her handclaws across a soldier. She snarls again, grinning widely as she grabs another by the wrists and<span style="font-style: italic">pulls</span>, "arming" herself.<br/><br/>The combat that follows is fast, and astonishingly bloody, even when you factor in that she's beating nine men to death with the soggy end of another's arms- though she does end up with a sword sticking from between the ribs of her anthropomorphic section for her trouble.<br/><br/>She looks at their leader, still holding her impromptue weapons. "I'm not even berzerking right now." She pulls the sword from her chest, dropping the right arm. "And in answer to your question, yes I have. I think wolf is a better flavour myself, richer, more complex..." She laughs, looking at the blade. "If you want to live, run. Run as far and fast as you can, and tell the slavers it's time. You've all sown the seeds of this revolution and it's now the harvest. Time to reap the whirlwind!"<br/><br/>She laughs, loud and deep, watching him. If he makes a move to hurt her, she'll be taking his hand off. She wants him to survive, and spread fear amongst the slave-owning nobility!