Roland nods back and staggers away, but realizes soon enough - and buries the frustration, the anger at the thought, because that feeling's not useful just now - that until he has some evidence whatever's come over the other man has passed, he'll have to do a little shepherding. He lurches back, reaching for the nameless Legionnaire's shoulder. His eyes have almost moved back into the same spot they used to be and this throws him off, might send his hand reaching for the wrong place. He'll have to get used to his face being on his head again and the thought's bizarre, disturbing, the last little detail that loses him the war he's been fighting with his stomach.

He turns his head even as he reaches out, gagging, but only the smallest stream of that black bile is left to come trickling out. Once that passes he tries to lock eyes with the Legionnaire again, if the man's aware enough to do something like that. His voice, at least, is raised; he has some evidence that, if nothing else, his voice might get through.

"You can find the way out, can't you? You can feel it? If you can, run!"