It had been a few days since his hatching, and the creature was growing restless among the groves. The newness of life had left him already; Netil wasn't interested in his surroundings in the manner of a curious child, but he did seem to deviate towards detected movement more often than anything else. The tremble of leaves, the swaying of heavy boughs, and the scurrying of small critters each made his attention drift.
As he woke, having wedged his small body in among the soil, he woke to a blanket of fog. It wasn't unusual for Cetus to be so thoroughly misty, but this fog seemed to be preternaturally thick. Had the caves not been a closed system, perhaps the creatures within would be privy to sunrise and sunset; but they weren't, so the thick soup of fog was the next best thing. It was early, relatively speaking. The air eddied through the paths in and out of Cetus, causing the mist to drift ever so slightly.
As Netil woke and shook the sleep from his inky black head, his motion seemed to startle something else to life. Something small charged out from the soil adjacent to him - from the soggy foliage behind him, perhaps, where it might have found warmth - and the movement left a brief gap in the fog. It was enough to snap the beast in to a more cognizant state. He went lunging after it, first with just his snapping teeth, then with his entire torso, slumphing himself out of the mud in order to waddle hungrily after the target.