Dustin shakes his head. "Then I doubt some shadow apparitions of the Cotati are responsible," he determines. "Obviously the storms had a lot to do with this, but--"

He cuts himself off and abruptly jerks to a halt. One of his feet has sunk precipitously into a pile of underbrush, nearly halfway up his calf. Dustin shoots it a frown and tugs. His boot holds fast, like it's caught in thick mud.

"--maybe not with--" He kneels to give his shoe a firmer pull with his hands, growling with the effort and rapidly increasing frustration. "--extra-universal--summons--fuck!"