*lets out a snarling sort of giggle and stumbles a step or two, half-tangled in your long limbs (not that your fragile mortal substance has a shot in Mandos against the singing Dark that is her)*
*plants her palm on your chest and slams you down, hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs, but it is no killing blow (the Lady forbids it)* *leans in and hisses at you, black eyes wide and gleeful* My Lady will have you, little mortal, little thing. She will have you and you will not frighten her, nooo, she'll drip you through her fingers. *twitches and smiles, reined madness in her every tic* My Lady is Death. Yell and scream and bleed to your end, you'll ne-ever scare Her!