The shadows seem full to their edges, inexplicably capable of hiding a full sized man with ease. Pitch keeps moving from one to the other, knowing that Tooth's speed and agility was nearly unmatched and that if he stopped, either she or her faeries would be able to locate him before long.

He'd tried to summon Nightmares of course, as one of the first things he'd done after extricating himself from that damned fountain he'd arrived via. Yet none had materialized at his beckoning; he still controlled a large amount of nightmare sand, but without the solidifying presence of fresh fear and bad dreams, his creations remained inanimate.

The Fearlings on the other hand... for now they were quiet, held to bear under his control.

He ghosted past her quickly, a disturbance in the dark before she could orient on him. "And what should I know?"