Once he ensured that the situation was handled inside of the grotto, and he felt no one was threatened, he decided that he rather not hang around for much longer. He felt about anxious around such a crowd, and moved away from it once he could upon his tan paws. He did not enjoy having to do what he did, and he was looking forward to returning to Spirane and perhaps not coming back to the Grotto for a long time.

That was his plan, anyway. But life was a funny creature. It did not enjoy plans. Rollo's plans for life never seemed to go down the path he asked. Instead, it would take turns, and sometimes go the opposite direction. His dark fur absorbed any light as he left the area, making the flecks upon his back seem to stand out even more. Something was catching his mind and his attention though. He paused with cold rock on his feet. Things feel suddenly silent to his ears. All he could hear his breathing as he stared out of the grotto. He did not know if it was his breath or the breath of someone else, and yet, it was his all the same. His own heart began to beat harder and harder, like an angry man beating on a drum of war. He was frozen, and he only came to when the wind picked up and brushed against his fur. He felt a shiver go down his spine as a faint hint of a scent tickles his nares and lights him aflame.

Golden eyes flecked with brown blink. He realized now they were dry. He lifts a paw to rub them and he shook his head. He knew not what had overcome him just now, and he couldn't seem to shake it off. His forms edges forward, one slow and deliberate step after another. He felt the urge to peer into the shadows, wondering what it is he would find there. He has never felt such a strong pull to stick his nose into darkness, but nothing would stop him. As his eyes adjust, he sees the faint reflection of light on eyes most green. He takes a step back as he swears that the very air in his lungs is stolen from him from those eyes in the shadows. He is bewildered.

"Who...who are you?" he asks in a voice soft and gentle. It was not a demand, but a plea, as if he was begging a god to bless him with such knowledge.