You spat out a few strands of the pink hair that had somehow managed to go in your mouth during the fight. One of the many sets of arms went to grab you as she lunged forward and you dropped lower as you grabbed her belt and shoulder as you leaned back and planted a boot on her stomach as you pinwheel-ed her over your head as she landed on her back with a grasping thud as the wind was knocked from her lungs. "Go kill her." Maverick said. "We believe in you." Maverick said. What Maverick hadn't said or prepared you for was the tingling on your wrist as you watched the small print of the magpie in flight begin to lose solace as a fox now appeared to be running underneath it. Though Mistral's wrist was covered, you could assume that her wrist now bore a similar image. Great. Just great.