“Not compared to others, no,” he readily admits with good humor. No shame there. On his good days he’s got average speed and you’d never know he uses a cane. On his bad days, he’s slow and gimpy. So it goes.
And the advice she gives makes sense - Falke must do the best with what he’s got and improvise the same way he does in his sessions. His gaze goes distant as he contemplates the obstacles in the space and how to best use them - what’s his goal right now? To stall for time. Hold his ground. And the little dragon has proven more than once that he can take a bit of ruffling, so the Fixer doesn’t hesitate.
Reaching out for a box, he tries to knock it to the ground between himself and Umbra, creating both a diversion and an obstacle. Then he tries to move into the corner, hoping that the box and its contents (whether it spilled or not) would give him the time to back up to a wall or something. Falke keeps his cane in front of him as a guard and tries to balance between watching the blue-black speedster and where he’s going.
