Wilson clicks his tongue in faux disappointment. "Isn't it now..." Then he snaps the claws of his hand once. A sharp noise splitting the air and the grip of the hands made of shadow tightens, with a few additional hands sprouting from underneath Dustin as well, coiling around his arms, legs and torso in a surprisingly palpable way. Dustin is picked up from the ground, held by writhing tendrils and hands made of shadow. And even then, even despite being comparably short, Wilson still appears taller somehow, his edges sharpening again with playful malice seeping into his voice.

"I suppose we can do some of the more- Traditional experiments after all." Wilson announces, bringing the tips of his claws together in front of him.