Wolfe was light on his feet despite his size, ducking and dodging and sidestepping the falling rocks, emerging relatively unscathed (a quick thanks uttered to Faram for his luck). Lionel looked worse off, and was that d’Albis on the other side of the party—? But dust was clogging the enclosed air of the cavern, making it harder to pick out the details.
Again, Wolfe instinctively took up place by Lionel and Flynn’s sides. His jaw was set in a grim line, having listened to Sabina’s information. “We can try to distract it while you two go,” he said, not looking at the pair, his attention hardwired to the larger wyrm.
And then, he finally reached for his geomancy: Wolfe took advantage of the fallen rocks around them, his concentration hefting the stones from the ground, until they rose and flew at the wyrm to impact and encase it in a shuddering wall of stone, a tomb—hopefully blocking the fire and keeping it occupied, if only for a moment. The creature itself was immune to actual petrification, but perhaps the attack itself could do some help.