"Blair thought he made the wrong choice, in the end. For what that's worth." There's a nervous gulp as Kinner puts pen to paper. "I'll give it a try. It's hard to draw - it didn't really stay fixed in one form for very long. Always changing. The only time we saw it in its true form is when it got caught, or if it was the last thing you'd ever see."

Kinner was lucky - or unlucky - enough to get a good look at the Thing in its true form as it ensnared him, and the more he thinks about it the clearer the memory gets. The cook remembers the wet feeling of its skin, the red eyes glowing with hunger and malice, the creature mentally grabbing his brain and ordering him, commanding him, not to struggle or run, Kinner's own brain helpless to refuse. It wasn't a pleasant feeling.

He draws...something on the paper, something amorphous, with long tentacles, what might have been teeth, writhing, snakelike tendrils on its head, and blazing red eyes. Its skin almost seemed to bubble on the paper, with some patches of gray fur, as if the creature was moving between forms.