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"Nevermind, just, you owe me man," he sighed exhaustedly. "Just like. I don't like being tied up."

"Thank you," a smile breached his defenses. Happy now Noah?

Rep wasn't allowed back up onto the monster, a fact which made both him and Tracey bristle indignantly, he wanted to die pulling in the traces like a workhorse, not standing off out of the way.

Tracey hissed. <>

He sulkily crossed his arms.

"Or a bee sting," she offered helpfully, smiling. "A warm of bees can take down a human, I think a swarm of hunters can take down whatever the ******** that thing is." Or at least she really really hoped so. For as sure as she sounded, it didn't match the worry that was still sitting like a hard knot in her stomach.

His nonchalance at being eaten earned him a soft tap on the side of the visor. "No getting eaten. I forbid it."

Having heard of the giant ******** wasps from hell she was inclined to agree with him. Though which ever analogy they went with, it needed to end with a collective force of small beings taking down something insanely large. With as many rumors and stories as she'd heard of what the hunters before them had come across, she had to believe that they could get through this, that they could win.

Pale eyes narrowed as he pressed his hand against the spot she'd tapped and she gave him an annoyed, yet amused, snort in response to his cheek. "I guess you will."

The more he grinned the harder it was for her to maintain that steely look, and eventually she was forced to roll her eyes and look away as tanned features crumpled into a smile. He was entirely too endearing for comfort.

"You could try hand washing them," she offered sarcastically, before the sudden visual of a naked man in a visor strolling across the training fields spawned a sudden dark wash of color to creep over Peyton's cheeks. She made a small, frustrated sound, then reached up palm his visor in what might have been an attempt to block his vision. "Borrowing from your fellow hunters is another option, you know, before wandering around buck a** naked."

Flusted Sun spot? Yep.

If he kept talking about walking around pantless, or in fact did so, then she may very well have to murder him.

Pale lips pursed as she looked up at him, and she used her small grip to give his visor, and his head, a little shake before letting him go. She sorely wished her left arm wasn't inured, because the strong desire to cross her arms was leaving her rather clueless as to what to do with her right arm. After somewhat fidgety finger flex she finally just stuffed her hand down her back pocket. "Exhibitionist," was her snappy retort, but the blaze of color still alight on her cheeks killed a lot of the sting.