Shin likewise moved his bandaged hands and forming a complex interlocking pattern with his fingers, his index forming a steepled bridge, with his thumbs together at the base. He grunted, his eye twitching somewhat in pain as he did so, his eyes closing as his paws began to glow with magic's light.
Lael tries her best to coax the tendril back in, as she is not familiar in the more wild aspect of magic she is having a harder time then the rest. Lael almost gets it back before she goes limp and falls to the side. The void has tainted her mind before she could get the tendril in.
Luke joins the others and gets down on his knees into a better position to meditate. Picking a tendril, he focuses on it intently. After about a minute, the tendril stops moving altogether as if frozen, then slowly withdraws into the tear. Once completed, Luke quickly stands and picks up the fallen Lael, carrying her away from the tear.
"Plue, could I ask your assistance?"
Illahee frowns, a spiral of chill ice flowing across the ground in a circle from her form, but stopping short of anyone else. She reaches a hand, as if attempting to still Lael's tendril while pushing in her own, since it has begun to thrash and writhe as if a thing alive.
Bavaikas is deep in concentration. From an outside perspective, they appear frozen in place, with their brow knit and their jaw clenched. They've focused on a fairly unassuming tendril-- it's low to the ground, and shadowed by its further-reaching brethren, but it begins to lash wildly as the Dragon's mind encircles it. Like a string drawn taught, it suddenly freezes, and begins to slowly collapse inward.
Durnic's face is covered in sweat and his eyes are darting around under his closed eyelids. His arms shake and his breath is caught in his throat his right arm raises up, hand outstretched. Eventually his arm is wrenched to the side, as it by someone grabbing hold of it and yanking. His eyes snap open and he shouts, "I swear to fight evil without cessation!" He comes up to his knees, anguish evident on his face but his tendril has stopped moving. "I swear to..." the tendril retracts slightly... "not recoil..." more, more, the tendril retracts "before the enemies..." Durnic's arm is under his own control again when he finishes, "of my country!" He stands, both arms outstretched and through clenched teeth he shouts. Snapping like a rubber band, the tendril retracts and Durnic falls to his knees, drenched in sweat. He breathes out one heavy puff of air and collapses.
The tendril Amory focuses on retreats slowly back to the tear, gaining ground once or twice before being folded back in. As she concentrates, some of her foliage dulls - browning and wilting at the edges. And as Illahee chills, frost forms on the patch of purple flowers near Amory's ear.
She stands last, waiting patiently to be checked. Uncertain if the void taint crept in when the tendrils gained ground.