Patience had never been Annika's strong suit. She was a perfectionist, and for her, that meant getting the trick right the first time. She stared at the shadows, feeling a familiar kinship with them and reached out to touch them. However, they quickly faded to do her father's bidding. 

Annika had always been fascinated with watching her father work. She knelt on the ground, watching the shadows shift and form with rapt attention. Annika looked up at Jack when he relayed his instructions. She nodded curtly, her face contorting to one of concentration before she shut her eyes. She held her arms out, feeling more connected to the shadow realm when she did such things. The power of the Everdark came to her easily, the trick was keeping its attention long enough to work with her. 

Annika pictured the knife in her mind's eye. The colour, the weight, the feel, and the shape. She wanted to create something authentic and real, but with the power the shadow contained. She tried not to force the change like her father had instructed but Annika was eager.