It was inevitable that their opponents should target the transport. Furiosa knew that going in, and she'd have been downright disappointed if it hadn't come to pass. Having it actually grabbed and stopped by a massive creature is not quite what she expected, though.

She doesn't flinch, eyes seeking out the captain's as she revs the engine and wrenches the steering to one side, then the other. The snowmobile itself is the biggest weapon she's got. She can't afford to blow out the engines or break the treads, but she also can't afford to baby it. The way she shifts and turns and pushes the wheel one way and another makes the machine shudder and writhe like it's a living thing trying to escape the captain's grasp, a perfect reverse tug-of-war.

"You're going to lose," she says in a deep, distinct growl. "And we're going to plow you over."

Her gun hand comes up, Glock holstered in favor of a flare gun, which she aims directly at the captain's face. The shot goes wide as one of the vandals slashes at her arm, but she hauls off with her metal hand and swings it at her attacker. Whether claws or fist make contact, there's going to be some damage.