Wintergreen stares around, trying not to show his fear as he grips one of his pistols. He still has the balistae armed and ready to fire; even if the enemy wasn't visible, the computer could usually track them by heat, and if it came to something like that, sound. "Uh... I'm not the one he's referring to," he says bravely. "I've been getting along with Ferrod here, right Ferrod?"