Jungles are places with a surplus of organic material and little else. Trees, bugs, plants, fungus, animals. The earth has to be reached for and work gets sloppy when he has to worm past so much matter he can't bend. He got lucky with the first one! He needs to get someplace where he has more room, more material to work with!

He can't drain the air from the lungs of his attackers; too many of them. Focus on three and another five sneak up on you. Water thick in the air is a good bet. Transform humidity to heat, set fire all around him. Burn it, burn it! Burn it all! Their soft, Overlander hides can't withstand the heat, but you can! You can!

He's panting heavily from anger and panic, drool hanging from his lower lip. He looks around frantically. Where are they coming from? Where could they approach? They know the terrain, he does not. The sound of a snapped twig occurs to his right, making the monstrous mage whirl that way and hiss as he shoves a gout of flame towards whatever assailant is there, imaginary, soldier or otherwise.