Iuliael flutters, singing all the parts of the song without manifesting nearly enough mouths. He spies Ash and draws closer, still able to sing while speaking.

"You're a mage! What's happening? That won't work, I didn't make any vital organs!" This last is addressed to a slim vine sporting several thorns nearly a foot long, which has whipped around to stab him in the center of mass and cling there. Clear ichor with a golden tinge wells up out of the punctures. "Unless you're trying to pull me down. Um..."

The angel is fluid and starts flowing around the thorns trying to pull away, but there are several other vines now, striking and wrapping.