In the air, she'll be more mobile, harder for him to aim at -- which proves true as his blast hits off target, searing past her arm rather than hitting anything vital. It still hurts; she yelps, teetering in the air with a sudden loss of focus. For one, brief hiccup of a moment, the bonds are slightly looser.

But unfortunately, it makes her more determined to hurt back.

Again streams of water shoot up from the mud -- but this time just outside the ring that holds Sans. This grouping feeds into a summoning: A large, muddy hand that hovers over its victim, palm down. It barely completes itself before it's on its way down, aiming to grind and embed her opponent deep into the mud.