Fahl lunged forward to where the closest shoots twined. An open mouth full of pointed teeth now clamped down to undo or tear away their grasp. He had not bothered to consider speaking, only seeing a plant rebellion to quell. Grunts of effort punctuated his tugs, fish catching and algae scraping nothing compared to fighting against greenery. Not a single thought was spared to whether he might be dragging the Gembound's leg along with each backward jerk of the head.

Apparently there had been far too much force applied. A crunch heralded an unwilling somersault and a jarring landing belly-up on the ice sheet. Groaning, he spat out the bits of plant held within his jaws. The lizard rocked back and forth, the cold searing into his spine, before finally managing to roll back onto weary feet.

"Stubborn," he said once enough breath had been gathered to do so. "Could you give them reason not to be? Something to... appeal?"

Perhaps tamer and flourishing was not the right description—maybe the proper one was harmful in its own unique way.