Two birds, one stone; Owen leans into his knees and heaves a fortifying breath, the urgency easing away with their weird cow in sight and nothing waiting to fall on them.

"Are you as weirdly disappointed as I am," he huffs, kicking a clod of dirt in the animal's direction. When the next shock rolls through, he's already crouched enough to ride it, and this time he puts a hand to Karen's elbow, steadying. Out here, they're mostly in trouble of falling on their asses.

"Should've been more worried for the pumpkins." The groffle gives a low, irritated rumble as her prize rolls slightly away, and takes a step to catch up. "I guess when you've done enough speed, the shaking seems normal."