So, we were all waiting outside a doorway and trying to figure out the best way to get some food/life-saving supplies. We would've left had most of us ate earlier, but a lack of food ensured a bit of misery. A trap was inevitable and I thought it best to just continue on, preferring to brush by the growls of the ceiling rather than confront them. Besides, Josh reminded me of the last fire Pokemon I met. One attack was so brutish (and was probably a critical) that it sent me on a health spiral for most of the trip, and I only just recovered from that. Not a good avenue for me to go down again, with a sharp warmth I can still remember on my eye. That, and the purple scar on my face started to itch from the heat. "We need more food guys, but I don't really like the idea of being a flammable punching bag again." I spoke out against the dangers of walking-into-traps-no-matter-how-prepared-you-were, swinging around in the air to watch our backsides. I'd assume the Pokemon here would've been more fisticuffs than devious, though it seemed that was an incorrect stereotype. "Let's just move on and hope we don't get jumped on. [s]It already took a week to walk up some stairs.[/s] If you want, get Kamina or whatever to lead the charge or something."