Primal instincts awaken. The beast within cannot be contained. Laglor's broad chest rises and falls; a faint whistle escapes from his wide nostrils as the great Primadon pulls in a mouthful of air and releases it in a snort. His eyes narrow, a wicked grin spreading wide across his shaggy face. Looking up, the agents see Laglor bearing the mark of Vydar high above. Using the distraction he's created, they regroup and take aim upon their enemy with a heightened precision and range.