His companion writhes, twisting around his insides and sending wispy shadows snaking from his mouth when he breathes. It wants something or fears something, but Avery isn't sure what, not nearly as attuned to the forest or understanding of the creature inside of him as Ekkehardt is.

"Stop," he hisses, but his companion doesn't listen, squeezing and sparking and insisting. "Fine! Fine. Just... Just point me where you want me to go?"

To his surprise, it does. Not consciously, or not any conscious way he knows of, but he slips through the trees with ease, following along some sort of invisible thread where the tension in the air grows thick in a way that fills him with a sense of dread.