Rage, blood, and ink, movement splattered across the battlefield like words on a page. Tanya had been able to avoid the demon's assault in the distance between her skin and her tattoos, and in what seemed like the same amount of space, she found an opening. That opening she needed-- she took her chance and her strike found its mark. As the monster was tipped back, she forged the Contract Will with the bite of the Rules Snake. She screamed her terms in her mind as she felt its claws scrape up a handful of her hair. 

TOUCH MY RIGHT HAND.

She felt it wrench her head back and up, yet instants felt like eternities, all but biting her tongue to bleeding in waiting for her magic to take effect. As the beast pulled, she threw her right hand up in front of her face, the feathers from before still remaining to absorb further blows. At the same time, her left hand flew to the small of her back, her grasp finding the familiar shape of Quill, her magically attuned dagger. If another strike were still to come forward in the instant it would take Rules Snake to make its bid to its rampaging opponent, it would probably snap the bones of her forearm like twigs. Yet she would survive. Her terms would only take effect if the berserking vulture warrior could manage to form coherent counter-terms; if it couldn't muster the presence of mind at Tanya's contact, the Rules Snake would drain its soul from its body like letting blood from a wound. If somehow it was able to make itself understood in the mental covenant it would establish with the Rules Snake, the humanoid abomination might not be able to act based on information about Tanya's speed, her feathers, her combat style, that the demon had accrued while it was under the influence of whatever foul conditions allowed it to do so much reckless damage. After that, all it would take would be one more touch, a cut of the knife, anything she could use to deal the killing blow.