"Then I sure hope you have a plan!" Grif yells back. Unfortunately, only the panicked running aspect of this is in his wheelhouse.

In the meantime, he grabs a long, distorted leg bone (too long to be human, or at least completely human). Speed means he's still fast enough to get close to the creature and shove the femur into the churning whirl of the monster's legs and scramble out of its way as it staggers.

He's delayed it, just a little. Please oh please have a good idea, Freelancer, he's counting on you.