Even if he'd wanted to, Martin was unable to protest the summons, silent though it seemed. To him, it was an immediate pull, an alarm of sounds or smells or feelings – anything to shake him from his thoughts and refocus all of his attention on Bariyan.

Without a word or even thought of it, he scooted forward where he sat until he slid down, back against the bulk of the rock he'd been seated upon. And from there, his whole body sagged as his spirit fled, leaving it just the shell it truly was. It breathed shallow and made no sound, and would remain so until he could reclaim it...or some force or affliction forced him back to tend to it. That was part of the contract, after all...keeping that body. Keeping it well was important. But he was the human second, not first.

The gold ghost rose in a noiseless flap of billowing light, fluid in shape for its first seconds of resurgence. Burning, feline eyes were turned unblinking toward the source of the call, and the man's head bowed before shifting into motion. Flickering out and into time made distance nothing, and he was before Bariyan without another moment wasted in miserable silence.

Here I am.

Words without a physical voice still could resonate as he willed them to, and Martin posed a question in just a look while he hovered at Bariyan's knee, looking up and smiling all the while.