Titanite fell gradually silent as he realized that the young foal had fallen asleep.

These warmer creatures--they lived so fast. Beating hearts and moving muscles; heat and energy. From life to slumber, and back again, in rapid cycles that it could barely follow.

It turned its many-eyed gaze back to the tree canopy above, the rushing of wind as cooler night wind began to whisper through the trees, the dimming of the light... the scent of rain promised on the wind.

It reached out one branched arm, and pulled the larger "ceiling" leaf tightly overhead, settling in place--so that rain, if and when it came, would leave the foal untouched. And then it fell still, contemplating the soil, the light, the trees... content in its more gradual world.