Flint Ironstag is a mrh? cow.

After a few seconds of silence, confused look, and general mad antics, Flint rubs his head and begins dragging himself off the floor. "Doc, I'm not sure I can really say, myself." Now standing, he bounces a little bit, trying to figure out exactly what his legs are capable of. "We heard about trouble at Gerard's and went to help out. When we got there, a couple of the orphans came out and melted..." he pauses as the image finally sinks in. "...right in front of our eyes. We went in to get the rest of 'em out and had to fight some giant muto-plant thing that was wreckin' the place. And there was some kinda weird juice spraying from the sprinklers that started makin' us melt. We weren't too keen on that idea, so we found another buncha goo and tried that -- yeah, not helpful -- then shot a third one up, and whaddya know, we're all better." He rubs his head and thighs, then looks at Trainwhistle. "...Kind of."