Saturday is moving! She's had the breath squeezed out of her, so not very fast, but she's doing a passable army-crawl away from the creature when it topples. Her leg feels like she plunged it in fucking nitrogen; she's not sure it will bear weight.

"Alloran!" He's gone still. She swears, getting up on her knees. The creature flails, slicing at her and trying to shove off the whateverthefuckitis, flying manta ray that Alloran's morphed into. Saturday yells, rolling to dodge, and comes up with sword in hand.

"Fuck you! Die!"

She slams her blade into its head. It roars, thrashing, and cuts her across the face. She tries to hit it again and one of its arms slams into her spine, throwing her a good ten feet.