Forty runs an approving eye over Henway's rig, gives a small whistle, and enthuses "I want front row seats when you really get to cut loose, Chummer! Should be impressive." She clows her eyes for a moment as she visualizes the resuling mayem, then admits "Well, maybe second row, 'cause splatter."
After which, with a sigh, she prepares to be non-lethal. She swaps to her one clip of stick-n-shock ammo, then reaches out to Bolt Thank you for your assistance today. Sorry the hunting was not more exciting. Take your leave with my thanks."
Bolt's parting shriek echoes in her mind, leaving her feel oddly empty. With an air spirit helping her she feels like a raptor herself, prepared to swoop and inflict a deadly strike at any moment -- a feeling she relishes and hates to give up. Still, she said she'd follow Kachina's lead, so someething better at stealth and subdual was called for.
Call a guardian tree to protect us? Meh, doubt they'd have that sort of magic in a dumpy motel. Water is good at spreading out and finding all sorts of information, but Kachina probably has that handled with astral. Concealment, disrupt the other guys -- gotta be beast. And for this, if I'm going beast, it will need to be Harry, rude though he is. Or she, but really with that sense of humor I think 'he'.
The summoning goes well, in fact so well she almost wishes she'd opened a stronger channel, but then she feels Harry twisting her essence as it tries to divert the summons -- or maybe just as a practical joke. She grits her teeth and fights most of it off, but when the mental wrestling match is complete she still feels like someone had given a wedgie to her spleen. Still, she gives a slightly shaky smile when it is done, as Harry has promised the traditional three services.