Many come into this forest but he only interacts with a very few, usually only those unlucky enough to run into him directly. Its unusual for him to approach someone of his own accord. He considers her reply, eyes readjusting as the lights go out and she becomes a dim gray-white in the increasing darkness. “Moths are creatures of darkness, would you really want to see them in the light of day?” Dryly, and he moves closer still. He is no moth after all and does not lose interest once the light is doused.
Tunnel has no respect for personal space, he places himself beside her so that his side hovers only several inches from her pale one. This woman may have dimmed herself a little early, taking on a muted appearance but the blue creature beside her is shadowed by blackness shadows leaching into his skin like ink stains. “What are you doing then?” He rumbles, gray eyes wandering from her to the dark clearing in which they stand. A pitiable place for a night time rendezvous by most standards, worse still for a hideout. The stallion could easily drift away into the dark where his precious things might gravitate toward him again but does not do so yet.
She might prove more diverting than his dark pets.
like a shipwreck we die going into ourselves
as though we were drowning inside our hearts
@[Ilma]
