She groaned and sat up. "I think I'm alright. Just hit my head. You okay? Did I hit you?" she asked, pulling the weapon into her lap like a child might reach for a teddybear.

The dingbots dispersed, vanishing around corners until she had just the one she started with, the two slightly larger clanks and... A small orange weasel that was clinging to her now exposed ankle. It had a few too many legs, bolts in its neck, and sharp teeth.