"...Of course, Drake," Finir sighed. "It's...just the defender in me. And I know none of you are helpless. However, it doesn't hurt to fight as if everyone else were depending on you, while being mindful that you're a team player."
"But let's face it, Drake--" At that moment, an undead man waved a knife down the length of Finir's arm...but it had no effect! "--You don't have scales for skin. I'm sure anything as sharp as a fork would hurt you. No swipe of common utensils like these are enough to phase me too much!
The Dragonkin retaliated to the assailant by grabbing his face, flinging him once in the air within his grasp, and slamming him hard down into the ground. He also repelled another attacker coming from behind, making a drastic spin and hitting her hard with the flat of his blade. The impact itself seemed to knock the wind out of her -- what little wind she had left, but nevertheless, it made her stagger onto her backside.
"Besides, Queen Tiamat instructed me to protect the both of you with my life. I don't want your heads rolling quite yet!"
Pinkie Pool's archnemesis: Oatmeal.