>Keep driving the torch toward her, and see if we can grab some hair with that free hand and latch onto it.
>Does she seem to have any respiratory issues at the moment?
>Though you have little focus to observe this among all the other thing happening in the melee, her breathing does not seem obviously impaired.
>Before doing that, where is her stomach in relation to us?
>Over your lower torso, and partially bent to one side away from you.
>Keep driving the torch toward her, and see if we can grab some hair with that free hand and latch onto it.
>Spit in her eyes.
>Inhale for no more than half a second.
>Keep trying to work the sword enough to cut her, even a nick at this point would be more than anything else we've done to her.
>You try to stretch the torch closer towards her, but with you partially pinning your own tail, you think this is about as far as you can reach. The youkai pulls the part of her body you jab it towards out of range, though you imagine it's close enough to be uncomfortably hot.
>At the same time, you spit at the youkai's eyes and draw a quick breath afterwards. Even this short gulp of air tastes foul and sickly on your tongue; you can feel it settle heavily in your lungs, almost oily. Still, it seems to relieve a little of your body's desperate need for oxygen. The youkai was starting to withdraw her arm from her face when you spit, but quickly replaces it as soon as you do. You suspect a little may have caught her before she did, but you can't be sure.
>You follow the saliva projectile in with your left arm, pulling your torso up a little and grasping at her hair. You clutch a handful of the blond strands tightly, but the youkai immediately responds by shifting her own hand, already by her face, and grabbing firmly onto yours just below the wrist. An arachnid claw sweeps up at it from below.
>All the while, you wrestle for your right arm as she tries to impale it again. While you have little success in actually controlling it, you manage to flail enough with the blade to force the claw to retreat for a moment before scooping in from the side and scoring another smaller gash across your upper arm. Blood begins to well from the new one to match the trickle starting to run down your arm from the first. She pulls her arm back quickly from this strike, ending it prematurely before the blade even threatens to come close again; as focused as she seems to be on impaling you, she is giving the blade an obviously wide berth.