If Claire wasn't sure something was wrong before, she was sure of it now. That was bad. What the fuck was she thinking, going in like that? The Dog is doing his best, and the archaeopteryx is grabbing wraiths in raking talons from above, but the street keeps him from doing more than strafing runs.

...Which means it's up to Claire to do something, she recognizes. The gunfire stops, and several bags fly out from pockets. She wasn't big on doing this for obvious reasons, but she'd had time to really grow comfortable with Green magic, as exhausting as it could be. If Steph has any semblance of awareness, she'll probably recall the weird plant zombie Claire had made during their last big combat encounter...and this time it's not just one. It's three, each one uniquely ugly, growing out of those bags and animated by Claire's will and shadows.

Whipping vines grab wraiths, exposing them to attacks, holding them in place. It's not going to stop immortal opponents forever, but it'll give Claire time to call out.

"Steph! We're gonna have to retreat soon! We've delayed them, and we'll be overwhelmed if we stay!"