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Skara thought for a moment. Giant pokémon? Corruption? That sounded different, at least. And perhaps like it required a touch more... aggression than she'd been hoping. But hey, it wasn't like she couldn't fight, even if it wasn't her favorite method of problem-solving. And with so many others...

Skara blinked—for a second, she could've sworn the charizard's tail had flared a different color. Was that a thing all charizard could do, or just this one? (Surely it must be a thing the mistfolk could do, but Sabretane had insisted...) Part of her wanted to ask, but there were, presumably...

The still-not-quite-familiar sensation of transition: the feeling of a hook pulling hard from behind her gut. A swooping, falling feeling, not unlike her last jaunt into the mists, Paldros plunging ahead while she and Araun and Chelou tumbled clumsily behind. A plummeting, death-drop sort of...