It dissipates easily beneath their stolen hands, dark flesh caving into snatches of fog and shadow. Tatters of it go wafting into the air as it separates into insubstantial puffs of vague smoke.

It flutters and folds.

They twist, tear, rip, rend, leaving nothing but a darkened smear upon the ground.

What it is that thought to confront them, it has long since faded into the nothing it is.

They rise to their feet and turn to face the man they remember.