Roland grunts, grits his teeth, and it isn't the force of the dragon ramming into him that he minds. Pain is unremarkable at this point, little more than background noise, but the destruction of that heart he can feel very well.

"Think I'm not aiding you in your time of peril?" He calls it out because he may still have little time to talk, but convincing the other Legionnaire that he's right has just become much more important. As he talks, though, trying to hide the movement behind Toothless, he raises his righthand gun, meaning to put it right against the cord wrapped around the beast's muzzle and fire one of its flimsy but electrically charged bullets close against it. It's set to about middling power - too much electricity for a human, but hopefully enough to at least distract a dragon, so long as Roland stays clear when he fires. He hasn't made the connection between the flying sword and metallokinesis yet and so does not consider that his righthand gun, for all its plastic and rubber, does contain a couple small metal parts deep in its insides.

"Your peril is your pain, your heart! You think you can fight for justice as you are now? For how long? How many years until the pain of it trips you up, until the grief strangles you alive? Leave these hearts alone, boy. Leave them and give me yours. Then I'll show you how the Legion will thrive."