[At the pulses of signal he backpedals, quick enough to detect them coming and get out of the way before they hit, but his own efforts suffer as a result. He can't avoid them and continue to pry, so he picks one and retreats. He's a little slow - at least one finds its mark, and he lets out a curse because that's going to hurt later (the one problem with being able to link to your computer, he's found, but it's nothing some rest won't fix) - but he manages to find his way back home without too much trouble, much like a dog with its tail between his legs. He hates to do it, loathes the idea of giving up, but he doesn't have much choice, and there's always next time. At least now he has an idea of what to expect; next time he'll be better prepared.]