[Oh, this is great. Perfect opportunity. There's a snap in the fog, like fingers (or maybe a stick), and then somewhere, hidden in there, is a man on a plush armchair with his feet up. And a box of popcorn.

[He can't see, but that's okay. He doesn't need to see. He can sense any soul who comes his way, and when they do? He's going to have a bit of ... fun.]