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Well, one would suppose that eventually they would miss when it came to attacking. And that was just what Zascha did this time. He tried to use the distraction that Harlow was creating to get in for a good shot, but he underestimated it's attention span. As soon as he got in close it smacked him in the chest with one of it's legs.

It wasn't strong enough to cause any serious damage, but it looked like it was Zascha's turn to take a tumble to the ground. Holding tightly onto Gothsmog, he rolled across the ground a few feet. Coming to a stop on his stomach he laid there for a few seconds trying to gather his wits about him. It was a surprise to say the least.

Lifting himself up off the ground, he brushed some loose sand from his clothes. "Looks like it was my turn to eat dirt."

"Delicious. Though I think I'm full for now." He cracked his knuckles this time. Checking briefly to make sure Harlow was still going good. A slight cut to her arm but nothing life threatening. This thing wasn't hitting too hard but it was giving them a run for their money.

Zascha moved around to get behind it, hoping to stay in it's blind spot for the moment. Perhaps it would give him a bit of an advantage. "Just remember, you're gonna have to buy me dinner if I kill this thing. So you might want to focus on killing it first." He stabbed Gothsmog's blade into the back end of the bug, pinning it's tail down so it would stop flailing about for a second.

"Try to change it up a bit with your attack. They might look and act dumb but even dumb animals can learn not to lick the fire." Wrenching Gothsmog out of the bug's tail, Zascha slashed at it with the razor sharp edge. Nearly severing the entire tail from the body.

The bug screamed as black ooze sprayed from the deep cut in it's tail. Zascha took a whack to the stomach. Doubling over as he jumped back to regain the wind that was knocked out of him. "You ready to buy me dinner?"

Gothsmog's blade began to glow red again.

The bug flailed about, slamming it's body against the ground until it finally collapsed. Its arms and legs flailing. Mandibles snapping. "Ya know, I think I could go for a really big steak right about now." Zascha climbed up onto the creatures back, turning Gothsmog over point down. He stabbed it into the soft spot on the back of the bug's neck where the head and body connected.

A sizzling sound could be heard as the heat of Gothsmog's blade burnt through the bug's insides. Of course, the sizzling sound could of just been Gothsmog sighing in sweet satisfaction. As the bug made one final flop and finally stopped, Zascha sat down on top of it's head, leaning Gothsmog against his shoulder as he grinned down at Harlow.

Well, he was pretty sure it would be him buying her dinner. But apparently he was s**t at predicting things too. "With a giant baked potato, with cheese and bacon and sour cream. Oh yea butter too. And a couple of beers. Ahhhh yes. Sweet victory food."

He gave her a sideways, but thoughtful glance. Eyes narrowing just a bit, his hand rubbing his chin in quiet contemplation. "Ah fine, deal. But you have to pick your own drink and even if you don't like it you have to drink it."

Gothsmog returned to her unsommoned form. Leaning forward, he reached down to her hand and hoisted her up on top of the bug's head with him. Plopping her down side ways next to him so that her legs where draped across his lap. "Which one was it now?"

"You better hope your feet don't stink cause that would be groooossssss." Zascha slipped off her right boot, setting it down on the bug's head next to him. He lifted up her leg slightly to get a better look at her ankle. Eyeballing it for good measure. Grasping her toes between his fingers he moved her foot just a little bit.

There was no bruising that he could see. And her ankle bones didn't poke out awkwardly anywhere. "Its a little swollen but nothing serious. Just needs some rest and ice." Reaching into his coat, he pulled out a small roll of ace bandage and began to wrap it around her ankle for a little extra support. Slipping her boot back onto her foot. "Think you can walk back to the camp on it or do I need to Conan the Barbarian carry you back?"

Ah, he knew how that was. Boots. The dreaded funk that one's feet might obtain in the sandy desert was a funk to not want. Of course, his armor wasn't the greatest for the desert environment either. Any more and he'd be weighed down by all the sand what slipped between the plates and his clothes.

She was right though. This whole thing was probably far from over. And the way the higher ups spoke well, stopping to rest because of minor injury might not sit well with them. "Yea, you're probably right. It still seems like its gonna be a long, hard road ahead." With a sigh he rubbed the back of his neck before slipping down off the bug carcass.

"So you want me to watch your a** on the way back? I think I can do that but that means you have to lead the charge back." He laughed, giving her a pat on the shoulder. "Good, a girl who knows how to drink. I wouldn't want you getting a Red Headed Stepchild because it sounds neat and then figuring out you don't like the flavor of black licorice."

Zascha began to start the trek back to the camp. A slight spring in his step. Oh yea, he could taste that steak now.