Redhawk Caldera Words don't make the rain go

Dwin jumped, when the big and sturdy warship like wolf emitted a loud squeak. She stared at him wide-eyed, frozen mid-step, then gradually her expression changed from that of a surprise to calculating. 

 

Tactical withdrawal!

She slunk back to her hide-out behind the rock she had been perched upon earlier. There she plopped down, plotting her next move. For a moment, her attention was drawn by a shouting contest between her siblings near the densite and it was very tempting to join them, but there were more important things at hand. 

Enemy had to be neutralized. Dwin turned around, scrambled atop the rock, behind, which Bronco was lying low. In her mind she was as swift as any Marvel hero, the reality of short legs, very round belly and general clumsiness of an agile war-machine in the making was less graceful.

Nevertheless - it is about accomplishment of a mission, not the beauty of it. Dwin was atop the rock, peered down at the man, whose head was the size of her, and pounced at him.