While he's huge and swings like a wrecking ball, he telegraphs his movements like one as well, and Ivy's survived enough fights that she's not going down on the first hit now. She ducks and rolls, taking cover, and when she reaches out to the consciousness all around her she finds it ready to fight. The plants around her reform and reshape at a thought, their genetic code rewritten to her will.

Thorns as long and sharp as knives burst from the earth, vines like barbed wire lashing out at him. Even if she can't put him down for the count, she might be at least able to dissuade him from sticking around.