It doesn’t happen often where Nemeon wakes and finds someone immediately in his vicinity. More often he finds smaller animals - birds that have started to make a nest in a sheltered spot on his body (luckily for him, a single night has never proven long enough for the building and the laying of eggs, or he may never be capable of moving again). Once there were fox kits roughhousing around his legs and it had taken a skilled dance to get out of there without stepping on the spooked youngsters.
The nightly ritual of a deep inhale turns into a low, surprised shout - and his wings flare just slightly - when his golden eyes latch onto the figure of a twilight mare who, for just a moment, appears hazy. But then he blinks and she is solid, and he realizes she is not posing a threat to him.
And he feels guilty for scaring her, even though he had no control over anything that occurred before that sun set - guilt is practically instinctual for him at this point.
He settles, though his heart beats wildly in his chest from the shock for a while longer still, and can understand her thought process even as she trails off - he has no idea how many others can do what he can, but so far he has not heard of any and he can only imagine how strange it must be to see.
“It’s almost like sleep, I suppose. I feel rested, but it is involuntary - and I do not think I can dream.” If there are stone-dreams, they wait for him exclusively during the day, and are nothing compared to what he might dream if he decided to waste his precious night-hours with a nap.
“I’m sorry for startling you.” He offers, sincerely, before turning his head slightly to catch the remaining signs of colour still in the western sky - a daily ritual, one he can't quite leave behind even with company.