The Psiioniic wasn't wrong of course. Avoxes had been thrown in the arena plenty a time. With offworlders, it's only been a case of those truly crossing a line that they hadn't been, resigned for that reason to remain as they are. He's pretty certain there are only two offworld Avoxes now, counting himself.

He hasn't, however, quite clued to the idea of being used as a weapon like this just yet. It would be difficult to, considering. He's only barely physically imposing these days and all really just for his height. Or in the Psiioniic's case, his blood.

He's surprised to find the Psiioniic miming at him, but amused as well. It makes for quite the strange expression, especially when he's quick to try and flatten it out, not make it seem as though he's laughing at him when their relationship is tenuous at best.

He mirrors the Psiioniic with walking fingers, then scoops up them up with the other hand. Rescue. He points with his thumb back the ways he came.