Baz shakes his head at Feign's suggestion. "I can't." he growls "All this webbing's making it hard for me to... see. It muffles my Sonar- and my eyesight's barely better than a pinkie. Shield yer eyes!"<br/><br/>There's a brief flash as Baz lights another cigar, and he sniffs. "Someone with sharp night-eyes should take point, at least 'till we're out of the webs!"<br/><br/>There's a trace of uneasiness in his voice. He doesn't like having his sonar muffled like this!<br/><br/>He sidles up beside Feign. "And a pinkie is somethin you're not. Not completely, anyway..."