Howard's so busy looking over his shoulder for the ghost that he doesn't realize Aunamee's in front of him until he all but crashes into him. He sees the form in front of him and instinctively tries to alter direction, casting to the side like a boat in the storm and rolling. The grass gives, flattening beneath him and whipping around.

He brings the knife up even before he brings his eyes to see who he's nearly run into, and then is frozen solid by the electric jolt of fear.

He can't breathe. He can't scream. He can't move. He's not even here anymore at the Cornucopia, and instead is in his bed all those awful times he woke up with Aunamee's blood-spattered face looming over him like some ersatz jack-in-the-box. The hand holding the knife shakes and the blade falls with a light thump to the ground.