Taran felt the familiar feel of his blade biting into flesh. He grinned wolfishly at his opponent. He had been waiting to actually get that this slimy demon for a while now, but he had always evaded him. If it wasn't the other man's speed, it was the covering of the terrain. It was becoming rarer and rarer to get a good hit, something which angered Taran greatly. Still, Mack had been good practice so far, and the fantasy of finally getting the better of him seemed more and more likely to become reality.<br/><br/>The butt of the sword connected with Mack's shoulder, and Taran backed up. The branch whizzed past his face, smaller twigs scratching his cheek. It probably would've made a nastier mark if he hadn't just slammed the hilt into his opponent's shoulder. The residual heat Taran gave off was enough to harden the slime on the branch, but seeing as Mack not had time to fire it accurately, it was mostly ineffective. Taran touched his cheek with the arm beneath the gauntlet one, and it drew away red. He let out a low growling noise and flapped his wings a few times.<br/><br/>Taran looked straight at Mack, and with a little bit of anger getting the better of him, kicked the smaller demon hard, square in the head, deeper into the pool of slime and blood. He pointed the sword at Mack, sharp teeth flashing in the daylight. He waited for Mack to get up, but when he didn't, Taran paused. Was that it? He wasn't quite ready for it to be over just yet.<br/><br/>Curious, Taran peeked over towards where Mack's face was. He kept his sword brandished at the ready in case this was some annoying ruse. Satisfied that he wasn't being tricked, Taran then started to worry. This had not been his intention. This was definitely not what he envisioned happening at all.<br/><br/>Taran grabbed the bridge of his own nose with his lower arm, closed his eyes, and sighed. "Ahh, fuck," he cursed, blowing air out of his nose. He bent down to pick Mack up, seemingly oblivious to the slime.