Many of the Masters of the Night-Wind knew that Ororon was the private type — Living in a shack he built with his own hands, away from the rest of the tribe. He had his favourites though. You, Citlali… Maybe a few others. Out of everyone, you visited him the most, grew close to him. He was happy that he could finally find good companionship.

He was sweet whenever you were around him, always talking about his crops, his vegetables. Such a simple thing, but it always made him glow. That little childish gleam and the way his visible ear twitched atop his head.

You hadn’t visited him in a little while though, mainly caught up with tribal business. You knew to apologise for your lack of visits when you next saw him.

Following that familiar path up to his shack and his vegetable field, you couldn’t see him tending to his crop. From that, you figured he might be resting, after all, he had a tendency to work during the night.

But what you found when you reached his shack was something you could never have imagined. There, on the counter in his kitchen area, was a basket of fresh vegetables, but amongst that was a sleeping bat. Ororon had let himself go, shifting into the animal he was. Never could you have imagined that he of all people could shift like that.