"I know. I remember... it's hard to get used to. But things have already gone sideways here a few times, and they've never been involved."

The river of corpses, the arena, even the painful, wounding loneliness of last month. The locals hadn't been involved at all. If anything they'd been trying to warn the Sleepers of the coming dangers. What were they supposed to do with that kind of consideration?

Speaking of...

"Hang on, I want to make sure we don't get lost." After a beat, he adds: "Don't panic, this might look weird..."

Because a slow curl of mist, pale like snow, curls out from his chest. Settling onto the street in a very familiar form.