[ How typically chromatic. Aurican lets out an unamused rumble from his chest. Usually he isn't very contrary, but her idea, in his mind, is grossly foolish. ]

Do you see our kin here? Do you see any silvers or blues among us that can spread out and hunt down these forces? We need to converse our energy or we will only be knocked out of the sky, and be no better off.

[ At least the man offers a third option. ]

Agreed. But we need to . . . clean out for some room, as it were.

[ Aurican looks down at the small yard in front of the apartment, where there are soldiers milling about, moving in and out of the compound, armed with a variety of those fiery weapons. An idea comes to him, something that might get him pass the firing range without being seen. But such a feat will require precise timing and luck.

Without a further word, he tilts his body up and flaps his wings, gaining more altitude. ]