ISKRA
Goose's hackles raise from the base of his neck down towards the tip of his tail, fur on end with worry as attention is tugged skywards. Iskra's gaze skips from each phantasmal talon to the next, counting five in total. "Goose," Iskra says soft under his breath, fingers clicking at his side just faintly. "Get lost," he mutters to the dog, a signal to lay low and stay the fuck out of the way, one he has to use often when the dog's in the path of a falling tree or trying to come into a less hospitable bar with him. It helps that he's also a coward, so it doesn't take much to convince the husky that the immediate area of daemons is one he doesn't want to be in. The dog keeps low, slinking towards the shelter of a barrow far down the strand.
Iskra's attention is already back on the griffins, one hand slipping into his pocket for the box of matches he stashed there earlier. Ampere's weight, strapped to his back, is another comfort. "I can't do much from here," Iskra admits with a mild bite of disappointment. "So maybe a shield, or some other version of cover. Something to bottleneck them to get to us, so we can pick them off one by one. A shield and a trap in one." They could perhaps use one of the barrows as a base and erect more up and around it, leaving only one angle for the griffins to spot them from.
Iskra suggests a shield bottleneck
Iskra's attention is already back on the griffins, one hand slipping into his pocket for the box of matches he stashed there earlier. Ampere's weight, strapped to his back, is another comfort. "I can't do much from here," Iskra admits with a mild bite of disappointment. "So maybe a shield, or some other version of cover. Something to bottleneck them to get to us, so we can pick them off one by one. A shield and a trap in one." They could perhaps use one of the barrows as a base and erect more up and around it, leaving only one angle for the griffins to spot them from.
Iskra suggests a shield bottleneck
This thing we call life has been taking its toll
