Not wanting to be the only one standing guard, the Moogle makes his approach to the front line that begins to charge at them. A fluttering of appendages, timed punches and kicks, accuracy displayed to the best of his skill, and the fighting Moogle does his best to see the numbers drop as the pair stands at the ready for the next wave.

Huffing, the tired breath which escapes past Kupow's muzzle does little to impede him, the spirit far greater than what the body can withstand.