There is no answering for Loxley, but on his far side, Derrica dips a small nod to Abby. Yes, Abby should position herself in the space that Loxley's periphery can no longer encompass.

But rather than say this aloud, Derrica turns her head to observe the churn of demons in the surf, the hulking mass of that pride demon in contrast to its fellows.

"We'll have to, I think," she answers. "It can break any of your links with the rift with a blow. It should be out of the way, as much as we're able to arrange it."

Which might mean Derrica, kiting that massive thing away while the three of them do heir work. She doesn't say this yet, but it occurs to her, and she puts a hand to her mouth, considering.