[Benign, serene, Christopher only smiles.] It looks like we need a breath of fresh air. This is exactly why plants are so important in a place without Nature's blessing.

[And he strides inside without flinching. It's like the poison doesn't hurt his lungs (though it does, fires calling up a dozen half-buried memories that he'll fight to keep underground) and he doesn't hesitate first to cut the monster up, careful not to puncture its lungs, and then to stand in the centre.

There, he spins his umbrella by the hook, around and around over his head, drawing in the poison. He would like to cough, but then, the trick probably won't work if he does. So he reminds his body to endure its suffering, until he has the air clear enough that, for a moment, even a human child's lungs could endure it.

Christopher hops to the side.] Now a picture, and we'll run through!