Desmond looked at her. He knew it was her, despite the wolf before him. He had heard that a specter had to really try in order to be noticed. It had to truly be determined to do much of anything. Or angry enough. He called out to her, trying to get her attention. "Luna! Luna, I'm OK, my body just needs time to heal..." He tried to explain it to her and willed himself to be seen, knowing it'd be made easier by her being a necromancer. The darkness was soon drained from the area and it slowed to a trickle as it had to pull more from farther and farther away. His body was restoring at a much slower rate, but it was restoring nonetheless.