Life... but not as we know it...
The talon that raked her bit satisfyingly into flesh and drained more life-force, much to Terhon’s satisfaction. A decent hit, though she evaded the rest of his following blows by moving back for the far side of the room. He stopped, facing her, licking her blood off his talons with his tongue like a cat under the hooked beak of his mask. Yes, that would stop the bleeding of his back soon, even if it wasn’t enough to replace or heal beyond that.
The Mara paused to reassess the situation, even as he savored her taste. It was a good thing he did, for she did something odd…
The Yynglyng drew… blood to herself, making it slide off the glass by his feet and away. Now that finally explained where she was gaining her weaponry from, if she could manipulate such! Until then, Terhon couldn’t figure out what she was using against him, but she clearly had some means of attack. To be able to manipulate liquid like that, though, well, that put her on par with a water-mage in his book. Not exactly a foe he usually enjoyed facing. Still rather entertaining and likely to be an intriguing opponent all the same. Good thing he licked his claw when he did, or there would have been nothing to taste as a tangible treat at all!
His anger calmed to more observation than emotion as he watched it swirl around her, though he frowned slightly as she began chanting. He noted her mental shields were down while she focused on the chant and shrieked mentally a protest at her, the cry akin to metal claws on a blackboard, meant to distract and disorient (even now, he had no intention of attacking her mind outright--such was not a practice by Mara out of respect to the creatures they fed on). It did her no harm and certainly didn’t slow her down, but he could not abide any Summoning easily. Being a creature often Summoned himself, the Mara was disgusted that she would dare pit such against him—this was no fight of their choosing.
She was definitely Summoning… something. Well, some “things,” plural. He could sense them manifesting and whirling around her like a small cloud of birds, much as he could sense her mental shields with his strong telepathy. Spirit-creatures, by the mental presence they gave off. What limited ability he had to see them with was more akin to faint shadows flicking between the bright mirror and himself, annoying by making that flicker but lessening the light’s intensity somewhat as they gained substance.
Being of a more spiritual nature by breed, Mara were a bit more vulnerable to such creatures. His robes certainly were as easy to tear as paper, leaving openings in his visual protection. His armor handled such worse than it handled a dragon’s strike--no doubt they could bite into his metal like soft or rotted wood, and worry their way easily to flesh beneath. While he might have some ability to drain their energy and try to chase them off this plane the sooner, it was of no use to his own health--the opposite, in fact, with a tendency to make him ill like bad food upset a human. He wanted them to stay as far away as possible in that case, even though typically he closed in with foes to tear and rend and slice. Those would shred him just as efficiently, unfortunately, and weren’t worth risking proximity to at this moment when he had other options.
Terhon frowned a bit deeper and didn’t wait for her to fully finish whatever she was doing with the new spirit-creatures, reaching under his robes to rip out a handful of three to six inch feathers from his right wing’s shoulder. With a cast of his hand he flung the whole handful like daggers at her, hoping at least a couple might get past the small creatures and the blood she controlled and into her flesh.
Not waiting to have a result, he huddled in his robes and slid back into invisibility, pushing off to his left with a taloned foot on the glass.
Time was on his side. If the Mara could keep wounding her, he could outlast her, her own life-force bolstering his own. If his own feathers were not sufficient, he could throw glass at her as well to wear her down sooner. Those spirit-beasts were what concerned him, though if they were attacking him, that meant she was likely more vulnerable to his strikes at that moment.
Hmmm… that last was an interesting option to consider if the situation turned desperate...