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It was beginning to darken, but his mind was alight with questions, like fireflies that bounced about in his head - flickering in and out, softly buzzing. Maybe that was why Twiddle did nto feel as large a need to speak aloud when it grew quiet outside; already he had nice background sounds going to occupy him. Tonight he felt a pull to remain just yards from the boundary into Ignis Renatus, to climb atop the nearest and clearest hill and sit himself down for the night, to breathe in the warm spring air as the sun died, to bear witness to the moon's reign as stars are brought to life, perhaps even witness one fall towards him -
- thus he did. The chocolate male plopped his bottom atop a modest hill, tossing his head a bit so that the darkened strads of his mane did not get in the way of his good eye. The sky was brilliant even with the coming of dusk. "Regal, yet oddly bright for such a funeral," Twiddle commented as he tilted his head up. "Almost a mocking ceremony for a usually cheerful season. Does the sun have any last words this night while its twin rises from the ashes of this dying fire?"
He cocked his head to listen for an answer.
