Rush using her first name has always been a neon fucking sign that her shit is about to get wrecked. She turns wildly, unbalancing and landing in a sprawl that would mean death if his instincts weren't on it. She knows she only has a handful of seconds before the electricity wears off, and it is quite close to her now, and she's got nowhere to go.

She drags the shotgun from the sling on her back and pumps four agonizingly slow electric bucks into it. Stuns it every time, but it's still struggling and groaning, ready for more. And she's out of shells.

She hurls another blast of ice at the hulking thing and hauls her ass around the nightmarish sculpture, rejoining Rush at its steadily thawing back.

"I'm out," she grunts, tossing the shotgun and holding up the pistol. "I only got a few left here. I'd straight kill someone for a fucking frag grenade right about now."