The Mana Leech had no name for what it was experiencing.
It had no language, no memory, and no sense of self beyond the immediate pull of hunger. But it was sapient enough to recognize a problem, and the problem was simple. Its host was nearly empty.
It had felt the mana drain begin suddenly, a torrent pulling outwards faster than it could counter. It had fought back the only way it knew how, feeding harder and faster, trying to claim what was left before it vanished entirely. But the drain had been stronger, and the Leech had lost.
All it had left was the little that remained inside Noah Webb, drawing slow, thin pulls of sustenance from a body that was barely sustaining itself.
The mana was almost gone, and what little life force still circulated was sluggish, barely moving through channels that had been pushed far beyond their limit.
The host was a breath away from death.
And then the Leech felt it.
