She assesses her foes

The succubus holds her black whip at the ready, fingers gently curled around the hilt, ready to strike. Time slows as she glances at her foes and she instinctually understands the tactical situation, knowledge gained from besting countless plucky adventurers before them, and having been bested a few times herself - in ways both desirable and not.

Judging their caliber at a glance, if both adventurers get the chance to attack her she suspects she’ll probably lose out, so she knows she needs to make her first attack count and take one of them out for at least a few moments, using her whip or her intrinsic ability to make a foe follow a suggestion. She’s not keen on the sheer ferocity Tyra exudes, even if her armor has just been turned into a puddle on the floor and her gambeson and shirt shredded into confetti. She glances at Tyra's straining bra in particular, noting it as a good opportunity to get her out of the fight, clutching her breasts in embarrassment like so many others before her.