"Good as any," they say before they actually take a look around, but then there's. Rubber everywhere. Insulation. Grounding. Excellent. They can let out all the energy their anxious, tired heart is generating safely while still having enough for themself.

"Amendment. Better than anywhere else." They're grinning, and they tilt their head in the direction of the closest pile of tires. After a moment, they walk over and kick one to its side, flat against the ground. "This could get dangerous. I'll stay low; stand on that." As though anybody needs to be told how lightning strikes work.

On their part, they're absolutely staying low, down on their haunches, and one palm goes flat on the ground while the other keeps the ball afloat. They won't do anything until their companion is ready, but they can't pass up the chance to be dramatic. "How close have you ever been to a thundercloud?" they ask, hearing their heart in their head.