Taran scrambled out of Paciano's reach, breathing heavily. His momentary relief was shortlived when the club came down again. He tried to sidestep, but the spikes ripped against his ribs, taking with it both pieces of shirt and skin. Taran used his wings to distance himself from Paciano by flapping them roughly, causing him to jerk backwards. He righted himself completely a few feet away, hand on his side, which was slowly turning red with blood. "I like to think so," he muttered to his opponent, still catching his breath. He blew air hard out of his nose and then withdrew his sword with his lower left arm, and equipped the gauntlet on his right.<br/><br/>Out of the corner of his eye he spotted Mack, who had crashed into a food stall. He hoped that the small demon would understand that he was in a very dire situation. He didn't like that his first attack had done very little damage to his hulking opponent. His gauntlet began to sing as it heated up to its usual bright red, and in his other hand he swished his sword experimentally.<br/><br/>A kind of crowd was gathering to watch, which Taran didn't particularly like. He didn't enjoy having so many witnesses watching him use magic right next to a leyline, and too few of these people had watched Paciano start the fight first. His parents' voices rang in his head about exactly why they didn't want him using their portal, or being anywhere near it for that matter, but he tried to shake it off.<br/><br/>He took a few steps towards Paciano and slashed upwards with his sword experimentally while holding his armored hand out in front of him defensively, sizzling red. He was playing it cautiously, but packed enough force into his blow that he hoped it would knick some of that hard skin his opponent had. Some small part of him wished he hadn't taken Mack back with him- maybe he wouldn't be in this mess if he hadn't.