[ Cain swiped dripping sweat from his brow and the bridge of his nose, smearing the ash badly across half his face. ]

You kidding me? That's like telling me to hide under a fuckin' stack of firewood. I bet the people who ran into their homes thought that shit was safe too.

After this, god fucking damnit, we're gonna... [ He slipped forward, steadied by adrenaline and little else to the side opposite Aymeric's sword, and a little behind the taller man. He pulled his knife up into his hand, twirled it over his fingers in a brawler's antsy fidget, looking up. ]

... Gonna invent... rifles or something, remind me later. Rifles.

There!

[ He pointed it out, the depressingly-massive shape of the burning creature, circling lazily, half-hidden in the pillars of smoke, the clouds. It cried again, wings flaring, rising higher. Cain shielded his eyes with his hands, calculating. ]

I've got a better plan. A way better plan. But you gotta kill it in one stroke, or I'm dead. You think you can do that?