The area of concern had remarkably shifted from the cannon wielding machine that had been looming over them not minutes before and its apparent preoccupation with "spheroids" to... hats, of all things. The company at the moment seemed less worried about the tools the burly man, Jane as he called himself, had to offer than a seeming catalogue of hats.

"You look... red." The cat admitted, stepping to the side of the broad man who swung at the air in frustration, its head being at his shoulder's height, "I am unsure what such a thing does however."

Its fierce, golden eyes moved to the red woman after, the one who spoke about not needing any other weapons; a reasonable statement, given earlier she conjured and controlled fire with apparent ease. There's few times such a talent could not be of use to her.