The two little lights pop up at the sound of the name, and that should almost be familiar, except perhaps with a slightly more animal edge. Yes, that's the little pop Sora does whenever he's caught in a moment of doglike interest.
The two little globes pause, then swing out of the tree onto the floor, or at least they make it halfway. Now that the initial darkness of the transformation has dissipated into the air, it should be more obvious that some black silhouette is hanging from the tree, upside down, wisps of darkness floating away from it, back arched like a monkey as it continues to stare in Soldat's direction. Its foot is hooked around the branch in a way that should be impossible, as though the darkness has decided to merge his heel with the wood so he can hang, arms curled and hands loose, staring at the soldier. It tilts its head at them. It knows that name.
The spiky haired silhouette should be obvious by now. It's even wearing his clothes. It's as though he's been dumped in ink, but it's clearly him. It may be a bit too dark to pick out his face, but it's there like a mask, eyes replaced with yellow spotlights, unblinking.
It seems to hang there for a moment, perfectly still, and it seems like it could hang there forever. But its head turns sharply in another direction. If it's quiet enough out and the Soldier's hearing is good, they can probably hear it sniff the air. It cranes in that one particular direction, arms reaching out and grasping, almost as though it can take hold of whatever scent it's caught and pull it in its direction.
In the next moment, it disappears out of the tree in a puff of darkness. It reappears in the direction it was looking on the snow, on the ground and on all fours, but it almost immediately rears back, and if things were eerie but relatively calm before, the way it digs a hand into its black hair and smashes its head into a nearby tree trunk is a different matter.
It repeats this once, then twice, leaving cracking indentations in the wood, then starts ramming its head into the ground, launching itself drunkenly away from that direction. It smashes into more trees, eyes still perfectly round and staring. The smoky tendrils billow out and start multiplying. Sora is silent through all of this, even as he throws himself against another tree, leaves and branches shuddering and falling to the ground. His hands and feet claw into the ground as he moves between the trees, leaving deep trenches in the snow, deep enough to dig up the soil underneath. This may probably look like some sort of tantrum. This was almost certainly not what Sora had warned the soldier about at all.
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The two little globes pause, then swing out of the tree onto the floor, or at least they make it halfway. Now that the initial darkness of the transformation has dissipated into the air, it should be more obvious that some black silhouette is hanging from the tree, upside down, wisps of darkness floating away from it, back arched like a monkey as it continues to stare in Soldat's direction. Its foot is hooked around the branch in a way that should be impossible, as though the darkness has decided to merge his heel with the wood so he can hang, arms curled and hands loose, staring at the soldier. It tilts its head at them. It knows that name.
The spiky haired silhouette should be obvious by now. It's even wearing his clothes. It's as though he's been dumped in ink, but it's clearly him. It may be a bit too dark to pick out his face, but it's there like a mask, eyes replaced with yellow spotlights, unblinking.
It seems to hang there for a moment, perfectly still, and it seems like it could hang there forever. But its head turns sharply in another direction. If it's quiet enough out and the Soldier's hearing is good, they can probably hear it sniff the air. It cranes in that one particular direction, arms reaching out and grasping, almost as though it can take hold of whatever scent it's caught and pull it in its direction.
In the next moment, it disappears out of the tree in a puff of darkness. It reappears in the direction it was looking on the snow, on the ground and on all fours, but it almost immediately rears back, and if things were eerie but relatively calm before, the way it digs a hand into its black hair and smashes its head into a nearby tree trunk is a different matter.
It repeats this once, then twice, leaving cracking indentations in the wood, then starts ramming its head into the ground, launching itself drunkenly away from that direction. It smashes into more trees, eyes still perfectly round and staring. The smoky tendrils billow out and start multiplying. Sora is silent through all of this, even as he throws himself against another tree, leaves and branches shuddering and falling to the ground. His hands and feet claw into the ground as he moves between the trees, leaving deep trenches in the snow, deep enough to dig up the soil underneath. This may probably look like some sort of tantrum. This was almost certainly not what Sora had warned the soldier about at all.