I was shaking and wobbling with the tension of holding even so little of myself together. Was it better or worse that my body was so liquid? If it wasn't, I would've been still lying like a log, but maybe my bones would've been a better support for my hand.
Another second, and another. My will was resolute, but my body was at its limits. I felt the lack of oxygen in it like a burning pain. There was nothing else left in the world but myself, the effort of holding myself up, and the mantichora.
Then, like under a fresh breeze, I felt sensation returning to my extremities. Immediately, I gathered the puddle that I was back into a solid body and drew a deep breath.
The startled mantichora chose that moment to shoot another venomous barb at me. This time, I was ready, and so were my claws. I batted it aside with a volley of wind blades and jumped up. The second volley hit the mantichora in the head. Wounded, it was too slow to avoid it, even if it saw it coming.
