Mitch collected himself for a moment as the nausea caused by the uprooting of his balance system passed. He noticed that he couldn't really feel the ground. Upon closer inspection, it was because he wasn't touching it; he was hovering a few centimetres off the ground. No wonder walking felt odd. He tried to push the oddities from his mind for the time being, deciding to freak out about it later. Right now, he had higher priorities, like finding his sister and friends. 

"Mimi!" he called again, watching as the fog slowly cleared. He could see the silhouettes of gnarled and twisted trees, and beneath one of them, a female shape. "Mimi?" he called, picking himself up and starting toward her. 

[i]"RUN- RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN!"[/i]

Mitch heard the voice half a second before a small projectile whizzed past his head, straight through that of a formidable wolf-thing, looking like it was a crude doll made by a blind and slightly psychotic person. It went down in a flurry of red thread, and almost immediately, more came over its body, snarling with mouthfuls of needles. 

Mitch didn't need to wait around to get going. He took off with unsteady legs in his sister's direction. The wolf things seemed to be coming from the forest, but he at least had to get her out of there, especially since she was complaining about a [i]missing fucking leg[/i] which seemed to be priority one. 
Thankfully, he came across what looked like an oversized wooden doll leg, laying slightly hidden in some moss. He slowed to stoop and pick it up, expecting to grab it and continue. What happened, though, was that his hand just dissipated into smoke, rearranging itself into a hand shape once it had passed around the leg. "The fuck?!" he exclaimed, falling to his knees to try again. But try as he might, he couldn't get the damn thing off the ground, or even close his hands around it. Hell, he didn't even feel it there. It was like waving his hand through air. 

Panic welling, he desperately looked around for someone else as the hounds closed in further. Nearby was Myles, looking distraught and talking to someone who's head didn't come all the way to his shoulders. "Guys, help me!" he called, looking around and fruitlessly struggling with the leg.