It's better I stand beside you. [He moves to the side, fluid like water and stabs with his spear. He catches the morbol in the side of its mouth and darts away from a lashing tentacle. The spear vanishes, and he gestures at the river. Something moves under the surface of the water. Glowing green eyes in the face of the shadow of something long and winding.]

Let's slow it down, then we can think about how to finish this. [He doesn't want to linger. Wherever they are, he has somewhere else he is supposed to be. Yet, he won't take shortcuts.] Move to the right when you strike this time. I'll get the left.