[ Well. The Hex-or-whatever-it-was lands a very solid hit into somewhere in the crowd, it turns out (or so says the dice roll I just made {19}), forcing one or two of the Swoobat to have to break off their attack run in favor of not knocking each other out of the air on accident with the way the purplish energy makes them flail in attempts to regain equilibrium.
Now that they're actually close enough to engage in earnest, though, Emmet just lets his grin stretch wide, jaws parting just enough to reveal a flash of teeth— before bolting forward, circling around and darting at some of the diving Swoobat from the flank, forepaws wreathed in jagged shadows.
(And if it seems like he's trying to herd them to keep them together so that they're easier to aim at as a group... well, yes. Yes he is. Even with how quickly he's moving a stray attack or two might land their mark: a gust of wind here, a splash of psychic energy there. That's fine, though; he'll aim to give as good as he gets and then some.) ]
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Now that they're actually close enough to engage in earnest, though, Emmet just lets his grin stretch wide, jaws parting just enough to reveal a flash of teeth— before bolting forward, circling around and darting at some of the diving Swoobat from the flank, forepaws wreathed in jagged shadows.
(And if it seems like he's trying to herd them to keep them together so that they're easier to aim at as a group... well, yes. Yes he is. Even with how quickly he's moving a stray attack or two might land their mark: a gust of wind here, a splash of psychic energy there. That's fine, though; he'll aim to give as good as he gets and then some.) ]