Though it may have been intended as a comforting, thankful touch, that sensation of contact only serves to send a desperate shiver through his body. His body, that the entity has already ruined and altered beyond recognition. The body that the entity had taken as its own. He fears its touch, he fears what it's done to him, and what can not be taken back.

"Listen to me," he says, spurred on by the way he chafes. If it would go so far as to thank him, can it not simply listen to him, even once? "My comrades... my friends... the ones that swore themselves to you in my name... the darkness has taken them. Two have been taken to Achamoth, and the other... I know not. He is lost to me, and my communion cannot reach him."

And he can't avoid the flash of anger and helplessness as he says that. It's this being that has done this to him, this being that has cursed his loved ones and damned them to these fates. The anger infects his words as he goes on, unable to hold it back any longer.

"You bound them to their promise, their promise to keep me well, keep me safe, but... then..." His claws clench as this sides, shaking. "'Tis you... 'Tis you that has damned me. That has taken me apart, piece by piece until... until there is nothing."

The last part is a snarl, as if he is fighting to contain his roar. His pain becomes clearer in each word he says.

"You must help me save them. You must... 'else I will hurl myself upon the Regent's thorns until there is nothing left."