Tragic seems like a good word to use for his situation, Nemeon can’t really argue with that - though privately he would never use such a strong word. No matter how sad it made him, being trapped in the darkness, there was an instinct to not let it weigh on anyone else as much as it weighed on him. It didn’t occur to him yet to keep it a secret to avoid such things - because, whatever it meant, it was still his truth and she had asked.
Her first question about it is an easy one to answer. “Yes, my sister and I sometimes make a game of it.” Nemeon brightens a little at this thought. They had quickly learned that any pose that took his two front legs off of the ground may look dramatic when he was a statue, but was often followed by some bruises and once a bad sprain when the sun went down again.
The second question causes the smile in his golden eyes to fade away and he has nothing but a simple “No.” for an answer for her.
It is worse than sleeping, because nothing will rouse him. He’s already forgotten that first night, waking up to a distressed mother and sister that had thought him dead. He does feel rested afterwards - often extremely so, which works out well because that leaves him awake enough to spend his nights exploring and attempting to fill them up with as much life as he possibly can.
A confused frown darkens his expression when Baptiste corrects his assumption that she was more comfortable in the night and it’s his turn to ask something “Why do you choose it if it’s not comfortable?”
@
baptiste
