It was something of a new phenomenon for the Shakti-Goldencourte. Oberon had recently taken to sleepwalking, and as his round form meandered through the darkness of night, a genial smile curved up his lips while he dreamed of fresh deer carcasses only just out of reach. If he kept walking, surely he would reach them, and then - oh! How he would feast!

His breath came out in pale plumes of steam as he bumbled (unconsciously) through the Vale in search of his prize. The smell was so enticing, he thought, and getting closer every moment.

Oberon let out a muffled grunt as he suddenly bumped into something small and fuzzy.

Oh, he said disappointedly, eyes fluttering as he struggled to blink away the sleep. Where was he? And how had he gotten this far from the dens? Uh... did you kidnap me?

But that was unlikely, he thought, studying Solana's petite form with a skeptical eye. He realized someone else was there with them, and regarded Eidola with equal suspicion for several moments as he looked for drag marks in the snow - but there was nothing strange around them save for the pale, fluttering shapes that hovered just out of reach, something he had failed to notice until now.

That's weird.

He thought hard.

Someone lose their glowing lights?

(This was in reference to one of several wolves he'd met who possessed the peculiar motes of light inherited from surviving what he understood to have been the End of the World, but he'd never seen any detach from their hosts before. It was a wholly new event for the boy, and he wondered distantly if he could somehow acquire them for himself in the absence of their true owner.)