In truth, it's only his distinct advantage that lends Cloud the illusion of real skill. With (more than) ample high ground in addition to the carelessly close pack formation of the enemy, his dodgy aim and slow reaction time are more than made up for. Of course, the rather tight spot they're in doesn't hurt to sharpen his lacking skill, either.

The earsplitting chatter of automatic fire dies down to a few quick shots, here and there, taken more carefully, as she draws nearer the spot where he's dug into the rock face. Those things at the base of the cliff are making a game effort to follow them up, but even their most malformed claws are unsuited to mountain climbing. The best they seem capable of is throwing themselves at the wall of stone, scraping up a few feet before dissolving back into the earth.

He's shouldered his gun again by the time she reaches his height, and it strikes him immediately just how exhausted she seems. He should be just as worn out, himself, after running and climbing for so long, but his unremarkable endurance seems to be favoring him, by some weird stroke of luck. Pulling himself back parallel to the cliff, he leaves off cautiously watching the stalled pack down below to pass a concerned glance over his far less intimidating company.

"Are you okay?"