Richard feels his body quiver a bit, musculature vibrating like a too-tense spring from all the energy he'd shoved into it. He hissed out a breath between clenched teeth as he lept to the side and rolled out of the way of the dark blast, and tried very hard not to let all of this tension in him explode out until he was damn sure how to use it.

He took a quick glance at the battlefield and noted that there were no real people taking damage that he could just pick off. His battlefield knowledge was limited, but he knew this much: three guns pointed at you is a terrible situation. And if you can't make the situation better by, say, running away or catching them by surprise, then the next best thing is to make it two guns firing at you.

"Hey! Stomp this guy in particular!"

With a loud snap like a spring finally letting loose, he hurled himself far up into the air. One of his legs spent, he looked like he was going to body himself onto the limb on a dead tree before he got to the enemy. But before he hit it, he'd curled himself into a ball and wound up brushing against it's underside.

And then the second snap let loose, and he let off all that tension he was building up as he [Jump]ed down, feet first in an attempt to do a flying downwards dropkick towards the Wight that had attempted to hit him with that spell. He'd only done something like this once. He's good at taking a fall, but this would sting without his bullfrogs if he missed.