[Well it works, strangely enough. Or maybe not so strangely, given that the brute can barely think beyond the counting of his own toes. For a moment he's still, slack-jawed, eyes only barely focused, but eventually the smaller words seem to sink in: one foot scooting backwards in the slow exchange of massive weight.
Which is before Rhys finishes unlocking the system with a quiet little 'yes!!' of success, turning eagerly to bat at the edge of Fiona's coat.] Fiona I got it - hurry up and let's get the hell out of here!
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Which is before Rhys finishes unlocking the system with a quiet little 'yes!!' of success, turning eagerly to bat at the edge of Fiona's coat.] Fiona I got it - hurry up and let's get the hell out of here!