The roots under Sam and Clint's feet suddenly lurch, ripping themselves out of the ground with a crack, not towards them but the way an animal might wrench itself away from someone's touch out of startle. It doesn't take them long to change their attitude, to go from scared wormlike wriggling roots to something more aggressive when Tom realizes it's feet his extended reach is touching.

Tom moves towards them, choosing not to dissemble his body and reappear somewhere else but instead to charge like he's slithering and flowing in slow motion across the forest floor at them. He isn't fast like this, but there's something inevitable, inexorable, about how he approaches, as if his arrival at his destination is already a certainty. Meanwhile, the roots shoot up and towards Clint and Sam's ankles, seeking to bind and drags them down.