[@LeeRoy]

[i]As he stretched out, Facere might feel like wandering over to take a closer gander at the lumpy log or fallen tree stretched out forty feet ahead of him. It'd be inexplicable, faintly curious, as if it were an modestly interesting object you'd just happened to notice on the ground. Undeniably he had awakened into a strange and malignant world, but nothing catastrophic seemed to be befalling him where he stood, and that fallen tree... It looked different from the others. There were few clues, if any, to his circumstance, but what harm could come from checking that thing out...

The Pull was a subtle strength. Rarely do fish know the hook from the bait. The emotion of faint curiosity was just that, faint, so that the victim wouldn't be able to tell that it wasn't their own feeling, but a projection. The Magna Pater could imitate a fallen tree, deprived of its branches, quite well. It didn't need to shift with breath, and what features it did have that bore a similarity to moving creatures, eyes, nose, ears, arms, ect, could be folded down, folded in, glazed over with a light layer of dull mucous nigh indistinguishable from mist dew in the gloom. Even Facere's eyes, likely far sharper than those of a hawk, would probably not be able to tell that the inert form was or had ever been a living creature. No bark? A decomposing tree in damp conditions could easily take on visible textures hard to differentiate from the Magna Pater's flesh.

Were Facere to move within six yards of the object, the interest would wane, and in its place, for only a fraction of a section, would the weight of an immense sense of danger loom, overshadowing all. The pressure of the imminent activation of the Malocchio, a power that briefly warps the laws of nature, inevitably forecasts itself on a psychic level. He'd know without a doubt that if he continued looking at the form in front of him, he'd see something that might very well wind up not only dooming him, but his entire existence as well. Such petty fears as tigers and bears could only kill and eat the mortal body. Facere would know that whatever was before him ate souls as a bonus. A moment later two huge, glassy eyes would be turned in his direction. They were Facere's eyes, enlarged horrific parodies that pierced the fog and stood apart from the shape with such stark contrast and detail, that they might as well have been holographic images seen through 3D specs. [/i]