"Called it." Should probably not have been the first thing out of Mal's mouth right then but. He totally called it. Saw this com'n because that is the kind of shit he gets dumped into often- well with less King-napping and more cargo and smuggling but- things don't go smooth. So of course somth'n was gonna go wrong and it was gonna go wrong in the worst possible way. But here we go. Demons. Vinty bastard pull'n strings literally or figuratively and where there'screepy Vints there's Coryphewhoever.

THat's shit he can't stab.

This? This he can stab.

"Jayne-" The hound flicks his ears forward, ready to pounce. "Mind the pretty one."

There's a moment where Jayne looks past the group to Merrill and Nathaniel, then back to Anders, then to Mal and whines. Which pretty one?

"Oh for- feathers. Mind the feathery one." Right. Jayne knew that, falling back to act as a buffer between whatever might come and Anders as Mal brings his spear to bear, bracing just before the Wardens. Soon as he got a clear shot, he'd throw.