"If you're in the forest, you can be of the forest. If you're of the forest, it's your soul," Tochter says. "At that point, as the Lady Magister pointed out, we should be in well-mapped territory."
"In an entirely natural forest with an unoccupied Dreaming Wood, perhaps," Hatalath says, "but it stands to reason, and perhaps should have been foreseen, that one that has its loyalties firmly established would not be so easily suborned."
You look to Cadaeth, who is biting her lip, to Aksel, who's rolling his eyes, to Tochter, who has the look of someone who's trying very hard to find a reason why what she's just been told isn't the stupidest thing she's heard all week. "I believe that to be the case on the larger scale," you say diplomatically, "but we're talking about strictly local transmission of energies that the oversoul would already be permeable to. The difference between being possessed and merely having a few parasites."
"I suppose that there might be some give to be found on the outskirts," Hatalath murmurs, his brow furrowing as he considers the matter.