"You're not the boss of me," Lambert tells Syrlya, in a low rumble. As the Mother of Invention starts to flail around, thankfully, they're not in the immediate radius. Peridot is, though, and it's a good long worried moment for Lambert until he sees Papyrus's magic whisk her safely away.
There are probably others who can help Syrlya more than Lambert can right now, largely on account of having opposable thumbs and shit. Ignatius probably has the right idea, though as Lambert scans the field, his eye catches on the rabbit and he frowns.
"No sign of Gild," he tells Syrlya for his benefit, since his line of sight on the ground is all of jack and shit right now. "Try not to die until we take care of this, will you?"
With that, off he goes, waddling and tail swinging. He pours as much of his dragon breath over the Mother of Invention's chassis as he can to support Rita's magical attacks, focusing particularly on areas with ripped-off limbs and other damage in the hope of weakening the structure further with heat.
no subject
There are probably others who can help Syrlya more than Lambert can right now, largely on account of having opposable thumbs and shit. Ignatius probably has the right idea, though as Lambert scans the field, his eye catches on the rabbit and he frowns.
"No sign of Gild," he tells Syrlya for his benefit, since his line of sight on the ground is all of jack and shit right now. "Try not to die until we take care of this, will you?"
With that, off he goes, waddling and tail swinging. He pours as much of his dragon breath over the Mother of Invention's chassis as he can to support Rita's magical attacks, focusing particularly on areas with ripped-off limbs and other damage in the hope of weakening the structure further with heat.